Death by Ponytail

Very rarely at the boutique do I feel my heart leap in to my throat and my mind race with panic.  In fact, other than my very first princess I have never felt particularly terrified.  That changed the other day when I was absolutely positive that I had killed a princess.

My princess was very sweet and talkative and dressed as an adorable Sleeping Beauty.  We were chatting away and I had gotten to the point where I was ready to roll her hair into the fairytale bun. I had asked her a question about her favorite princess, Sleeping Beauty, she had answered, and I had started to ask her another question when her chin dropped to her chest rather suddenly.  "Princess, did you turn in to Sleeping Beauty?" I laughed, thinking she was joking around. That was when her whole body went limp and she pitched forward in the chair. I threw my arm around her waist, fortunately in time to prevent her falling out of the chair and on to her head.  From this angle I could see her face and realized her entire body was paper white.  Her lips blended seamlessly in to pallid cheeks and perfectly, horrifyingly still eyelids. I looked around frantically for her aunt and grandmother.  I was holding her chest and couldn't feel any movement. Nothing was moving.

Did I pull the ponytail too tight? Have I cut off the circulation to her brain? Oh God, is that even possible?! Oh my God, this is how it's going to end. I've murdered a princess.

As her grandmother rushed over I called "Fairy Godmother Rose! Come here right now!" as calmly and sweetly as I could while holding a most likely dead child.  She came over and after asking her aunt and grandmother if they wanted us to call as paramedic (Please call. Please call someone, anyone, who can maybe, just maybe, not let this girl be dead in my chair.) Fortunately, they said yes and as another mother who happened to be a nurse applied cool cloths to the princess's neck her eyes fluttered open and some color returned to her face.

Oh thank God... The paramedics rushed in and I was allowed to let go of the princess, although they had to gently move my arm for me as I was apparently not going to let go of my own accord.  I hovered while the paramedics looked her over and got her talking in bits and pieces.  Occasionally someone would ask a question or try to move me and I would say in an entirely detached voice "That's my princess" without looking away from her still too pale face. I answered the paramedics questions about her name, age, and where she was from.  For some reason I felt compelled to add, "Her favorite princess is Sleeping Beauty. Isn't that funny..."

After what seemed like an eternity the paramedics had her pretty stable and explained that she was severely dehydrated.  She had apparently not been drinking much water to begin with and she had recently started taking a medication for an ear infection that was supposed to be taking with water which only made matters worse.  They determined that she didn't need to be taken to the hospital immediately but should go after they finished up.  The paramedics left and my princess looked up and, ignoring the mass of people swirling around and fussing at her, stared at me and whimpered "Can I still have my sparkles?"

I descended upon her as relieved as if she had been my own child.  We finished her hair, applied eye and lip makeup (leaving cheeks clean to watch her coloring) and sent the nail polish home with her (to monitor oxygen) and made sure she got as much sparkle as she could possibly stand.

I signed her autograph book "To my Sleeping Beauty..."