Norf Carolina

The first night of our road trip landed us in North Carolina, and on the the first evening of our stay with my brother, we headed to the town square for live music and family activities.

Miss C, after 17 hours in the car, (thank you, DC traffic) was a bit short on steam.  Within 7 seconds of arriving at the town square, she sat down on the pavement and had a huge meltdown. 

I took her across the road, away from all the activity, to calm her down and sit with her.  She caught her breath, and we got up to walk around a bit.  She leaned against a fence, tired but composed, and pressed her cheek against the post.  She then exclaimed, "The princesses!" 

She leaned down and picked up an old piece of litter, a sticker of 3 Disney Princesses.  It was curved and curled at the edges.  And there was no stick to it.  "It's not sticking!"  She attempted furiously to place the sticker on her shirt, on the post, on my shoe.

And I couldn't help but notice that the Princesses have become part of the litter of our nation.  Along with plastic water bottles and plastic bags whipping in the wind, they are woven into the trash thrown on the side of the road. 

Three weeks ago, walking home from a hike, we passed a beat up rubber ball, emblazoned with the 3 Disney Princesses.  A week later, driving down a country road, with nothing but trees and a few scattered houses, we passed a backpack imprinted with the large, impeccable Princess faces, staring out from some cattails.

Miss C ended the night with another howling sidewalk proclamation: "LEAVE THEM HERE.  THEY DON'T STICK."  And she dropped the dirty old sticker back on the ground, turning on her heel to leave.  Not about to give an anti-litter lesson in the midst of her hysteria, I stuck the ladies into my pocket like ZuZu's petals, feeling more like I live in Potterville than in Bedford Falls.