There are always two sides to every story

You remember Cinderella, the poor girl whose father had questionable taste in women. By the way, whatever was he thinking? Did Lady T emit powerful pheromones that he couldn’t resist? Or maybe there were health reasons; the best I can tell, he died shortly after his marriage. Did his health start to deteriorate before he even met her, causing him to hallucinate her warmth and sweetness? Or, in the final analysis, was he simply a dolt taken in by a woman a bit smarter than he? It does seem as if a good, healthy, conscientious, nondoltish father would have detected unfriendliness toward his daughter BEFORE he married.

But maybe Lady T hid her devilish nature. At any rate, Cinderella’s father up and died, leaving her with a stepmother and stepsisters, Ana and Drizzy, who teased her unmercifully, forced her to do their dirtiest chores, and tried to keep her from meeting the man of her dreams. But did you ever, just once, think about it from their point of view?

There was the trio, minding their own business—a bedroom slipper business by all accounts—when their main source of money (via Lady T’s husband/Ana and Drizzy’s father) just dried up. (By the way, I don’t think that was any accident. I can’t be alone in wondering what happened to him. No one ever mentions his death, which makes it all seem very mysterious and hush-hush. I think an investigation is warranted. Grown women don’t just turn cold and cruel overnight, you know.)

In my opinion, the evil widow, together with her equally wicked daughters, hoped to inherit millions from his demise so that they could sell their business and live comfortably thereafter. What happened instead was that, upon his death, they quickly squandered their inheritance and were forced to seek a new source of revenue. Voila! Cinderella’s father made a play. Business was going reasonably well when he kicked the bucket. (By the by, his death was minimalized and requires further investigation as well.)

But everyone’s innocent until proven guilty, so what choice did they have? They demanded Cinderella do all their nasty chores, but it was no picnic for them either. Just when they thought they could eventually sell their business and live comfortably off the proceeds, they found out Cinderella’s father had spent all their money on food and shelter, so they were forced to continue with the making, selling, and schlepping around of bedroom slippers.

Business was slow, though, so Lady T always made them wear their own products—except for Cinderella who had to wear boots that were always a little too tight.

When the King announced a ball for his princely prince of a son, Ana and Drizzy couldn’t help but hope that one of them would be the lucky bride. What’s surprising is that Lady T didn’t make a play for him herself. (After all, everyone knows that the third time’s the charm.)

Naturally, the business ladies forked over what little money remained to invest in some brand new ball gowns. But since the dresses reached the floor, they wore their bedroom slippers to save on shoes. On the night of the ball, they got themselves all dolled up and left Cinderella, a little young for a ball, in charge of the homestead. No one was no more surprised than they when they heard about the hoopla afterwards. A fairy godmother? Mice turning into horses? A pumpkin turning into a coach? Poppycock! But happened it did, as they discovered when Cinderella’s slim foot slipped right into the glass slipper. Girl meets boy, runs away, loses shoe. Boy tracks down girl, slips shoe on foot, and marries for no other reason than her dancing ability. Weird.

But there was a lot of money at stake, so the three of them bickered about it to their dying day.  The two stepsisters blamed Lady T, claiming it was her fault that their feet were wide. After all, she and her slipper business had forced them into comfort.

But, really, I’m guessing they were better off. Who wants to wear glass slippers when you can wear slippers like these?