As princesses go...

Alison has been in the poor house lately. She made a strategic shopping error recently when she made a major deposit in her savings account. That account is, thus far, a one-way street.

She did save a bit back, but when we went shopping just before school started, she ran smack into the issue of unlimited wants and limited resources. I was her shopping buddy, so that means she's in debt. To me. Which is a pretty good spot. For me.

It's not that bad a spot for her either, actually. The Captain is far less lenient when it comes to her being broke but also going out and about. He tends to think she'll learn faster when she has to be deprived. I get that. I even agree with it. But I also believe you should never leave home without some cash in case something goes wrong.

Here's why I'm right on this and the Captain isn't. I believe that in a situation where you need rescuing, you should consider yourself to be your first rescuer. Sometimes you do need help. But often, you can solve your own problem. Having cash is a key part in being able to take care of things yourself. And if you have wait for help to arrive, it's good to be able to wait in a safe, well-lighted area. Again, cash comes in handy for that.

My example: On Monday, I got busy at work and realized I wasn't going to make it on time to pick Ali up from school. Students have to leave school grounds at 5 p.m. Ali was expecting me at or before 5. The school is pretty close to me, but with traffic, it's still a good 10-15 minutes await.

I texted her as soon as I realized I was going to be late and asked her to meet me at a coffee shop near the school. No problem, right? It was the plan we'd agreed to at the start of the school year.

I packed up and sped over there only to realize she'd gone to the coffee shop but she had no cash. It wasn't that long of a time for her to be there, but if I was the coffee shop owner, I'd be less-than-thrilled to have a nonpaying person lurking about.

So she now has an emergency cash stash. I hope I don't strand her again, but better to be prepared, right?

Anyway, this morning after she stumbled out of her long slumber, I sent her downstairs to face the piles of laundry she'd left dirty to go biking with her friend Nick. She mumbled -- in a good-natured way -- about the hardships she has to endure. She'd also put off homework and knew her Sunday was going to be less fun that her Saturday. The Captain had let her skip finishing ti Friday when he whisked her off to a fun dinner out while I worked late. (Yeah, he's the tough one...)

"Oh Cinderella," I said from the back porch where I was reading the paper. "It could be a lot worse."

She adjusted her glide path to come quiz me. "Why are you calling me Cinderella?" she asked.

"Uh, your chore list," I said. "Duh."

"Oh," she said. "I would prefer to be Sleeping Beauty."

"Not a chance," I retorted.

Ali's not much of a princess, unless it's Merida from Brave. Since she cut her hair, it's a bit more of a stretch, but the attitude still fits.

Speaking of, she and I were talking the other day about Planned Parenthood and how people who work there or support the cause (like we do) are sometimes criticized, even killed. She was aghast.

"I respect their right to have an opinion," she said. "But why would they think they could hurt people."

She then went into war-room mode, strategizing how we could deal with protesters if they ever came into our yard.

I love her. Even more when she does her chores.