Foster Princess and the Poop (a fairy tale writing exercise)

Once upon a time, in the seventies, there lived a little princess, and one day, her grandmother, the queen, made known a royal decree.

“Leigh Stephanie Assunta” said she,”your mother, well, she lives in a tree, and your father’s preaching business, it isn’t so peach-ee, and though I want to take care of you myself, I’m already so sick, that really, I need someone to take care of me.  And so, far and wide you must search for some other kingdom, some other family.”

The queen pressed a satin pouch into her hand, and asked “Leigh Stephanie Assunta, what is my oldest and most precious possession?”

“The royal petrified dinosaur poop” said she, “Which is about the size of a pea.”  

And so the princess, name shortened to Leigh, travelled a little too far and a little too wide, in search of just the right clan-to-be.  Time passed, and one after one, her hopes were dashed.  

Too Catholic,
too fat,
too smoky,
too clean,
too full,
too cheap,
too creepy,
too mean,
too sick,
too hick,
too freak show,
and as she developed breasts,
all too Lolita-esque.

One day, after years of moving, she found, tucked into the back of a box, a dusty but well-preserved black satin mound.  “Oh, right. My shit.  I’ve been carrying it around.”