Funny Stories
Who Knew being Happily Ever After could be this Exhausting!
Spreading smiles
Once upon a time in a kingdom not so far away, Cinderella and Prince Charming were living their “happily ever after” — or so the storybooks claimed.
It all began the morning after the grand royal wedding. Cinderella, accustomed to the drudgery of her stepmother’s house, woke up in a panic. “Oh no, the mice need feeding!” she exclaimed, leaping out of bed and startling Prince Charming, who fell off the other side with a loud thud.
“Goodness gracious, Cinderella! What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing his back.
“The mice! They’ll starve if I don’t feed them!” Cinderella rushed to gather scraps of food from the kitchen, barely noticing the bewildered servants trying to assist her.
“Darling,” Prince Charming said gently, “you don’t have to feed the mice anymore. We have servants for that now.”
Cinderella paused, a conflicted look on her face. “But they’re my friends! I can’t just ignore them.”
And so, Prince Charming found himself negotiating with the royal council to allocate resources for feeding mice, much to the councilors’ bemusement.
Meanwhile, Cinderella, determined to be a modern princess, enrolled herself in a crash course on royal etiquette. The instructor, a stern old lady named Lady Gertrude, took one look at Cinderella’s mismatched socks and sighed dramatically.
“My dear, where are your glass slippers?” Lady Gertrude demanded, eyeing Cinderella’s sensible loafers with disdain.
Cinderella blushed. “Well, they’re not very practical for gardening, you see…”
“Practicality? In a princess? Oh, the horror!” Lady Gertrude muttered, shaking her head.
Despite Lady Gertrude’s disapproval, Cinderella persisted in her efforts to modernize the palace. She introduced recycling bins, much to the confusion of the courtiers who had never seen anything like them before. She organized weekly community picnics in the palace gardens, where she insisted on serving pumpkin pie — a nod to her humble beginnings that left the royal chefs scratching their heads.
One fateful day, while Cinderella was overseeing the installation of solar panels on the castle roofs (“to reduce our carbon footprint, Prince Charming!”), news arrived that the neighboring kingdom’s royal family was coming for a visit.
“Oh, how exciting!” Cinderella exclaimed, clapping her hands. “We must prepare a grand reception!”
Prince Charming, who had grown accustomed to his wife’s unconventional ideas, sighed with a fond smile. “Of course, my dear. Shall we serve them… pumpkin pie?”
And so, the royal visit turned into a whirlwind of events. Cinderella, determined to showcase the best of her kingdom, organized a royal ball unlike any other. There were traditional dances mixed with impromptu karaoke sessions (Cinderella insisted that everyone should feel included), and instead of the usual courtly conversation, guests found themselves discussing the merits of composting.
As the evening progressed, Cinderella found herself in a lively debate with the visiting queen about the benefits of fairy godmothers versus magic mirrors. Prince Charming, ever the gracious host, tried to steer the conversation towards more diplomatic topics but found himself drawn into a heated discussion about the appropriate attire for royal garden parties.
Despite the chaos (or perhaps because of it), the visiting royals declared the ball a resounding success. They returned home with stories of a princess who defied tradition with pumpkin pie and recycling bins, and a prince who debated the finer points of gardening attire.
Back at the palace, Cinderella and Prince Charming collapsed onto a sofa, laughing until tears streamed down their faces.
“Who knew being happily ever after could be this exhausting?” Cinderella gasped between giggles.
“It’s all thanks to you, my love,” Prince Charming said, pulling her close. “You’ve brought a new kind of magic to this kingdom.”
And so, Cinderella and Prince Charming continued to rule their kingdom with love, laughter, and a healthy dose of pumpkin pie. They proved that happily ever after didn’t have to be traditional — it just had to be filled with joy, friendship, and the occasional debate over the merits of glass slippers versus sensible loafers.
