With just a single glance around her, Harmonia took in the princess’s nervousness, the sparkling clean and orderly room and the prince’s discomfort.
“Please be seated and put yourself at ease, Princess Doitalla,” the wizardess told her. The princess sat straight-backed and rigid on a chair, feeling a bit chastised and embarrassed by the wizardess’s take-charge attitude. The prince and the wizardess sat down, too.
“Tell me about your day, princess,” said the wizardess without preamble.
“Well…it was unusually chilly this morning,” she began, desperately struggling for something interesting to say about her day.
The wizardess smiled. “What did you do today?” she asked her.
“Oh, um, let me see,” Princess Doitalla began, irritated about being put on the spot. But she was quick to recover, for this was her favorite topic, and it was not often people were interested in hearing about all the many things that she did. “This morning I dressed and fed the children, and next we played tiddlywinks for a while. Then I folded laundry while sitting with the children as they played. After a while, I brought the children back to the kitchen for their morning snack, and while they sat at the table I cleaned away the morning mess. Shortly after that—”
“I see,” interrupted the wizardess. The princess was far from finished with the long list of things she had already done that day, which were even exhausting to think about, let alone to actually have done, but Harmonia was already turning toward her husband and asking him the same question. The princess’s face turned pink as she silently fumed. The wizardess had not been even slightly impressed—or supportive for that matter.
“I was out slaying dragons early this morning, like every other,” the prince said casually. “And now I am here with you.”
“Exactly as I thought,” said the wizardess. She reached in her heavy bag and took out a little pad of paper. She tore out the top page and handed it to Princess Doitalla. Then she tore out another page for the prince.
The wizardess stood up. “Please contact me immediately if in three days from now the symptoms have not changed,” she instructed. “And do not delay, for my success depends upon it!”
The princess and her husband looked at one another. Then they looked down at the paper in their hands.
“Uh…is the message in invisible ink?” asked the prince.
The wizardess laughed. “Not at all,” she replied. “The note should be a blank sheet presently.”
“Presently?” asked the princess.
“Yes. You see, I’ve given you each a very special ‘to do’ list. Things will appear on the list as needed to balance out your activities. Please do everything just as it appears on your list, without exception. You may carry on with your daily activities that are not on the list of, course, but when the list beckons you must obey. Please check it periodically and keep up with it as best you can.” With this Harmonia wished them luck and shortly after that she was gone.
“How strange!” exclaimed Princess Doitalla. “I wonder what she meant by ‘as needed’ to balance our activities.”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” he replied. But there was a strange light in his eyes as he looked thoughtfully at his wife.
The couple was exceedingly curious and they repeatedly checked their lists throughout the rest of the day. But it wasn’t until that evening, after dinner, that the first instructions appeared on their “to do” lists. Around that time, there suddenly appeared on Princess Doitalla’s list of instructions “at precisely seven o’clock drop everything and leave the castle for one full hour,” while the prince’s list said, “at precisely seven o’clock assume your wife’s role for one hour, spending that hour exactly as she would do.”
They glanced at the clock. It was six thirty-two. Princess Doitalla jumped up with a gasp. There were a million things she still had to do that night. She set immediately about the kitchen and she was still rushing around when her husband approached her at seven o’clock.
“It’s time,” he said.
“Oh, dear,” said Princess Doitalla. “I have not quite finished here yet.”
“Never mind that,” he told her. “You must drop everything to follow the instructions on the list.”
“Yes, but first I must just tell you about the children,” she began, but he interrupted her.
“You must go now, Doitalla,” he said firmly. “I will manage my part.”
She paused a moment as if to argue the matter further, but at last she sighed and gave in. She left the kitchen and pulled the little “to do” list out of her pocket to read it again. “At precisely seven o’clock drop everything and leave for one full hour.” Where was she supposed to go, for heaven’s sake? What was she supposed to do? She stepped outside and stood on the stoop wonderingly. How on earth was this supposed to prevent her shoes being worn out?
She stepped off the front stoop and began walking as she contemplated the wizardess’s instructions. It gave her an unsettled feeling to simply walk away when there were still so many things left undone. Yet it was strangely exhilarating, too. She pondered what all this had to do with her marriage, and even more puzzling, what it could possibly have to do with her worn shoes. It was certainly true that the worn shoes had begun appearing in the mornings soon after she had married. Could it be that the prince was the wrong man for her? She thought about her husband, and wondered what he was doing at that moment.
The prince looked around the kitchen. He was supposed to “take the place of Princess Doitalla for one hour, spending that hour exactly as she would do.” He was pretty sure he could manage this; for she was forever listing the things she had to do every day. He knew, for example, that she had been hurrying to finish tidying the kitchen so that she could put the children to bed. After fighting dragons all day he was fairly certain he could handle these tasks.
Princess Doitalla walked more briskly through the cool night air. She thought it was rather strange and pleasant to simply wander around as if she had nothing else to do. She couldn’t remember the last time she had extra time to do nothing—certainly not since she was a young girl living at home with her father and sisters. Wonderful memories of those times came flooding back. She remembered how she and her sisters would sit around on old tree stumps in the woods, wondering what in the world there was for them to do.
“I’ve already read you three stories,” the prince was saying. “Why won’t you just go to sleep already?” But his children just kept on jumping on the bed. How on earth did Doitalla manage to get the children to settle down? He did not recall her ever having as much trouble as he was having. She was so good at everything that it was indeed difficult to do things exactly as she did them.
But at last the children did fall asleep and the prince tiptoed out of their room. From there he proceeded to pick up stray items as he went, just like he had seen his wife doing on previous nights. She seemed to think she had to be doing something every moment, and he wondered why it bothered her so much to just let things go sometimes. He heard her footsteps outside and hurriedly finished his tidying. He knew she probably would have accomplished more than he had with that hour, but even so he felt he had done enough so that she would not complain that he had set her back.
At precisely eight o’clock Princess Doitalla came home and looked around the quiet and tidy house in surprise. “Are they asleep?” she whispered.
“Of course!” her husband replied, as if it had not been a difficult thing. “You know,” he added honestly, “I rather enjoyed it.”
She laughed, giving him a dubious look. “I can arrange it so you can enjoy it every night,” she told him.
He laughed, too. “What about you?” he asked.
“I rather enjoyed it, too,” she admitted. “Though for a few minutes there I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.”
“Sometimes doing nothing is the best thing you can do for yourself,” he said. “But this isn’t one of those times.” He waved his “to do” list as
he added this last.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” She pulled out her own list and read it. The earlier message was replaced with the word shower. “Hmm,” she said. “What does yours say?”
With a self-satisfied smile he showed her his list. It, too, had just the one word, shower, appearing on the otherwise blank sheet. “I’m enjoying this more and more,” he remarked.
She couldn’t help but smile, too, even though she was not sure she was in the mood for a shared shower with her husband. However, she had agreed to follow the “to do” list and was obliged to do so where-ever it led her. There was, she had to admit, something very comforting in merely following directions.
She undressed quickly and slipped into the shower to get a head start on her husband but, alas, there he was, stripped of everything but his grin.
“We’re going to have to squeeze in close in order to get equal shares of water,” he told her. She laughed. His overjoyousness over the situation forced her into a better frame of mind about it. “Here,” he said cheerfully, “I’ll wash your hair for you.” He splattered shampoo onto her head before she had time to protest, leaving her just enough time to close her eyes so she wouldn’t be blinded by the soap. Whistling cheerfully, he rubbed the suds into her head vigorously with his fingertips. In spite of her reservations, and the sloshing of soap everywhere, she had to admit it felt nice having her hair washed by another pair of hands. And he was actually doing a thorough job. She told him so.
“Well, I should be good at it by now,” he told her. “I just finished doing each of the kids.”
“You bathed them, too?” she asked.
“Well, not bathed exactly,” he replied, tipping her head back in order to rinse her hair better. “I just lined them up in the shower and scrubbed them down, one at a time.”
“And they went for that?” she asked.
“They loved it,” he replied smoothly, adding under his breath, “Once they got the screaming out of their system.” He emphasized this last with a low whistle.
Princess Doitalla threw her head back and laughed heartily. The prince stopped scrubbing her hair suddenly to watch her. The sight of her laughing so happily delighted him. It seemed that his jokes, of late, antagonized instead of amused her. Yet here he was, in the shower no less, and making her laugh! Impulsively he kissed her. Her laughter caught in her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the delightful feel of his hard body against her own softer one.
“It’s so wonderful to hear you laugh,” he whispered close to her lips, and then kissed her again. She could feel his body getting harder and she pulled away.
“Shall I wash your hair now?” she asked him.
“Sure,” he agreed, dipping his head so she could reach it. She lathered his hair, scrubbing his scalp with her fingertips. “Mmm…” he murmured. “Feels good.”
“It is amazing how nice it is to have this service performed,” she agreed. “It feels totally different when someone else does it.”
“Does that mean I get to wash your hair every evening from now on?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she laughed. But she resumed her ever-efficient manner with him, managing the proceedings of their shower as she might have done with the children, while he now and again attempted to amuse or touch her. At length they were washed, rinsed and dried.
“Let’s see what our ‘to do’ lists say now,” the prince suggested hopefully. He was beginning to think that the lists would have to literally state, “make love to your husband” before she would get the idea. But as it turned out the lists were not that specific. “Go to bed” was all his list said. He looked at his wife’s list, which had the same message, but with an added instruction beneath it that said “massage prince’s injured foot.”
“You injured your foot?” Princess Doitalla asked him, concerned. He had made no mention whatsoever of the injury that she could recall.
“Oh, it is nothing,” he replied with a note of dismissal, surprised that it should have turned up on the mysterious list.
“Well, apparently it could use some massaging,” she replied, and he realized suddenly that his foot was indeed aching. “Get comfortable and I will be there in a minute.” She put on a nightgown before joining him.
“It’s this one,” he told her, putting the foot in her lap as she settled herself comfortably at his feet on the bed. She picked up his foot and inspected the swollen and bruised ankle, wondering that she had not noticed it before.
“How did you do this?” she asked.
“Oh, you know,” he replied, with his usual casual air that was belied by his wince as she tentatively touched the injured area. “I must have twisted it or something.”
“You don’t want to talk about it?” she asked.
“I simply doubt that it would interest you,” he replied honestly. Then, seeing her shocked expression he added, “I mean, I know how many things you have on your mind already.”
“Is that how I seem to you?” she asked, horrified.
“Well…yes, actually. Besides, you’ve made it very clear that you don’t wish to discuss my activities during the day, or the significance of them.”
“I have?”
“Haven’t you?”
“No!” she replied defensively. “I have merely tried to get you to realize that my job here with the children is important, too.”
“Is that what you have been trying to do?” he asked. “Here all this time I thought you were trying to put me down a peg.” He said this lightheartedly enough, in his usual mocking manner, but there was also a serious note to his expression as he looked her right in the eyes.
“How can you say that?” she said, fully on the defensive now.
“Because it’s true,” he replied quietly.
She did not feel like touching him suddenly but continued massaging his foot nevertheless, reminding herself that she was compelled to do so by order of the wizardess. They were both silent for a moment. She spoke up first, trying once again to defend her previous actions. “I simply don’t think you understand how difficult it is to stay home with…”
“The children,” he finished for her. “I know. I’ve heard this over and over. You don’t have to do it, you know.”
“That’s not what I’m saying!”
“Then what are you saying? Are you saying you like what you do or that you don’t like it? Do you even know what you are saying?”
“I know that you are being extremely difficult!”
“Ah, there it is,” he sighed with satisfaction.
“What?” She stared at him.
“When I question you,” he explained, uncertain why he was confronting her at this particular moment. “You simply change the subject with a derogatory remark about how I, a man, cannot possibly know what you are talking about and furthermore that I am intentionally being difficult about it. The truth is, my dear, you simply are not making any sense!” Finally his anger emerged.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Okay, then, princess, let us go over it again.” He was now angered to the point that she was, in his mind, an adversary to conquer. “Let’s get to the bottom of this once and for all, shall we? I am not an idiot, after all, so perhaps if I struggle hard enough I will finally comprehend what you are trying to tell me. Now, the original topic was how we can never discuss a single thing that I do during the day without you producing your speech about how much more difficult your day was. Correct?”
“I don’t want to argue like this,” she said with tears in her eyes.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, too geared up for battle to accept this too-easy defeat. “You always do this when you are losing an argument, only to bring the subject up another time when I am less inclined to take you up on it. Not this time, princess. This time, we will settle this now!”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to be honest with yourself and with me. Don’t play the docile little innocent now that we are gett
ing close to the issue. Since the day we were married you have been resenting me and complaining about your life. Admit it!”
“I have not been complaining,” she denied. “I just want you to know what it is like.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think you appreciate all I do.”
“What exactly have I done to make you think that?”
Princess Doitalla was flabbergasted. She had always thought she would welcome this conversation but now she was completely lost for words. However, in the conversations she had envisioned, she would be leading the topic and it would merely focus on how she felt, not how she came to feel that way. That was harder to explain.
“Well?” he prompted.
“I don’t keep track of every little thing in order to list them for you,” she said.
“Oh, really…don’t you?” he asked, incredulous.
“Not things like that,” she added, blushing. This was definitely not going in the right direction.
“The truth is that I have not done a single thing to make you feel that way, have I?” he persisted. “In fact, I have completely stopped mentioning the events of my own day so I can show my appreciation to you for all you do by listening night after night to the details of your day.”
“That…isn’t true,” she stammered.
“Really?” he asked. “You tell me what I did any day last week and then I’ll tell you what you did.” She was silent. “So why, princess,” he continued, more determined than ever now, “do you complain about your day so much?”
“I…” She paused again. “I don’t know,” she admitted at last. The tears returned to her eyes.
“Why do women always have to argue the importance of what they do?” he mused now. She was still massaging his foot dutifully and he absently picked up one of her feet to reciprocate.
“I don’t know,” she said again.
“And why,” he continued, “do women refuse to put an end to their workdays?”
“That’s just it,” she said, jumping in with new vigor suddenly. “We can’t. Our workday never ends.”
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