A friend and I took our girls to see the new Cinderella movie recently. Big mistake. It marked the official end of my childhood. Watching my favourite childhood fairytale through 35 year old eyes was a disturbing experience, not unlike when Sheldon Cooper found out that Indiana Jones’ presence in the film made no difference to the outome of the actual storyline. I, like Amy Farrah-Fowler, have discovered a fundamental flaw in my beloved Cinderella story. Now, I suggest a calming beverage for this, as once you know what I’m about to share you can’t unknow it, and your world will never be the same. So go get yourself a nice cuppa (I’ll have a flat white with one, thanks) and come back and prepare yourself. It’s okay, I won’t start without you. 😉 So, the first problem, and I warn you… This is BIG… The fairy godmother (TFG) tells Cindy that at the stroke of midnight the magic will wear off and EVERYTHING will go back to how it was before (I always thought TFG was supposed to be nice, but what kind of evil bitch takes away a girls favourite new frock?!?). As promised, at midnight everything reverts to type: the coach returns to it’s previous pumpkin form, her gorgeous gown is once again nothing more than threadbare rags. Everything BUT the glass slippers, that is! No. Just no. You CAN’T do that. I mean really, how hard would it be for the TFG to say “Everything BUT the slippers will go back to how it was before, because a good pair of shoes have a whole different kind of magic of their own!”… Or tell Cindy that “Princes come and go, but a good pair of pumps are forever”… Or something… ANYTHING!!! And, while we’re on the slipper subject… How is it that the TFG can manage to make a pair of glass slippers that don’t smash and slice Cindy’s feet to shit as she flees the ball, but can’t make them in the right size so they don’t fall off?? But for me the biggest problem with the story is how it ends: Happily Ever After… Which I now know to mean that she had babies and went back to spending every waking moment cooking, cleaning and catering to the needs of a different bunch of unappreciative assholes. And probably never got to go to another ball again. Good times. Happily ever after, maybe… But for who?