Disney Princesses are missing a very important feature.
My four-year old daughter wears glasses.
She has two pairs – one neon pink pair, lurid and bright, the other more discreet, my favourite, that show off her big green eyes.
They have neat little cases with patterns of jellybeans printed on them and a teeny-tiny cleaning kit that she was given as a gift.
She is one of millions of children right through the world who wears glasses. No big deal, huh? Except she hates them, passionately, though without them she cannot see.
“Put your glasses on Emme,” I say for the twenty-fifth time each morning, exasperated at seeing them discarded on a bench. “You have to wear your glasses so you can see.”
“I don’t want to Mama. I hate them.”
She casts them aside the minute I am not looking. She hides them in her bed in the morning in the hopes I won’t find them.
She won’t. Won’t. WON’T.
They are “ugly”, “yucky”, “horrible”.