Cinderella, As Told to Me by My Daughter

“I have to sweep,” said Cinderella, “Because this is my broom and I work all the time.”

“Well,” said Cinderella’s father, “You’re actually spreading the pile I already swept all over the floor.”

“You’re not my father,” said Cinderella. “You’re my STEP-father. I’m not Betty, and you’re not Daddy. I’m Cinderella, and you’re the STEP-father.”

“Ah, right,” said the stepfather. “So, I hear there’s going to be a ball.”

“What kind of a ball?” asked Cinderella.

“Like a dance,” said the stepfather. “The handsome prince is having a dance…Prince Charming.”

“Ohhhh,” said Cinderella, nodding. She sat down on the floor and put her feet in the air.

“Would you like to go to the ball?” the stepfather asked.

“No,” said Cinderella picking up her broom off the floor a few inches and letting it drop with a loud smack. “I’m too busy. Work work work work work. That’s what I do. It’s my job.”

“Well,” reasoned the stepfather, “Maybe your fairy godmother will-”

Cinderella began hitting her pink balloon with the broom, laughing hysterically.

She never stopped.

The End


About paulgude

Paul Gude writes small books, makes stupid music, draws silly pictures, and does weird things on stage.
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3 Responses to Cinderella, As Told to Me by My Daughter

  1. Malkah says:

    Best. Story. Ever.

  2. SO much better ~ I’d read Sophia this book every night.

    I will always hold out the hope that she prefers hitting her balloon and laughing to wishing her way into marriage with The Royal Bachelor.

  3. Super Sally Ryan says:

    Sally Ryan *likes* this.

    I especially appreciate the lack of fart jokes in this story, given my own daughter’s current stage of development.

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