I grew up reading fairy stories about how an ordinary girl could marry a prince and become a princess. My friend Mandy and I used to joke about it. We were inseparable as kids. Once Mandy even caught a frog and kissed it. “You never know,” said Mandy, “when one of these frogs might turn into a handsome prince.” Yuk! I couldn’t even touch a frog, let alone kiss it.
When we were in our late teens we attended the same art school and although our circle of friends had widened we still spent some time doing things together. And that was when Mandy got invited out on a date by another student who just happened to be the Royal Prince of Consorbania. I hardly ever saw Mandy after that. She was too busy kissing Prince Leonard her frog.
They got engaged. They got married (apparently it was televised). Mandy did lower herself to send me a text: “Whoever would have dreamt that I’d become a princess?” Ha! Ha! The King of Consorbania made a great announcement on their wedding day. Prince Leonard’s new wife would be known as the Duchess of Plonkton. A duchess! A duchess! Not a princess? That’s because Prince Leonard wasn’t directly in line to become the King of Consorbania. Prince Leonard was just a “spare” so his wife was a mere duchess. So much for kissing frogs. That was a couple of years ago. They’re divorced now.
As for myself. Yes! I married a handsome prince. He calls me “My Princess!” Mind you he calls our four daughters Princesses as well. We’re happy. I wouldn’t trade places with the Duchess of Plonkton for all the tea in China.
Weave a Web 
I don’t know who is the greenest.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you’re not jumping to conclusions.
LikeLike
Dare I? Oh well. ‘Toadaly.’
LikeLiked by 2 people
That was a tad silly.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I never saw a ‘kissing’ frog
I never hope to see one
But I can tell you this
I’d rather see than be one.
(Cinque)
LikeLiked by 2 people
The frog
a tad too old
to hop from log to rock
content to sit and bathe in sun
croaked
(This was published in a poetry anthology in Wisconsin a couple of years ago. I’m famous!)
LikeLiked by 2 people
Is that croaked as featured in your stories, or croaked as in froggy communication?
PS Well done Mr Anthology Contributor.
LikeLiked by 2 people
both!
LikeLiked by 3 people
That was a really nice story.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Glad it didn’t make you hopping mad.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wart are you talking about?
LikeLiked by 1 person
French cuisine
LikeLiked by 1 person
How much tea is in China anyway?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very little tea is drunk out of china these days. It’s mainly drunk out of plastic mugs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A croaking good story! I trust the Prince was NOT a frog!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Every prince is a frog – and some are toads.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve known a lot of toads!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Someone should have toad Mandy that most frogs are just frogs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
But what of the tadpole dancers?
LikeLiked by 1 person
A happy ending, who needs a real prince anyway!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Especially if it’s Harry.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is terrific! I really liked this. Reminded me of this:
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!
How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!
-Emily Dickinson
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for the poem – I didn’t know it at all.
One of my favourite frog poems is anonyous:
What a wonderful bird the frog are.
When he walk he fly almost.
When he sing he cry almost.
He ain’t got no tail hardly either.
He sit on what he ain’t got almost.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😂
LikeLike