One, Two Princes Kneel Before You...

Once upon a time there was a white mother who lived in a certain village just outside the walls of Dockburg. After only a one week in the village, she found herself in a bit of a predicament with three young (we're being generous here with the word young) suitors of the same house. The suitors lived together, but were very much unaware of the other lads' involvement (past or present) with the white mother. Willoughby, whom the white mother once loved, continued to be only cognizant of her existence when reminded -- mostly at weekly gatherings for religious study.

Although Willougby plays a significant role in the past life of the white mother, the current story focuses on her relationship with the other suitors: Prince Charming (don't ask me why he's wearing ice skates -- it's the first picture I found) and Colonel Brandon.

It appears that Prince Charming is at least moderately interested, and Colonel Brandon pursues the non-threatening course of the casual date.

Colonel Brandon called on Monday to arrange a Saturday evening at the symphony. Lovely. And then Prince Charming came along and wanted to go running on Saturday afternoon. We all know that this white mother is one busy girl, but we also know that she finds time for potential suitors. And so it happened. A few miles with the prince, and a requiem with the Colonel.

And then the Colonel left town for a week and the Prince called for a Sunday evening of scrabble. So the white mother and the Prince sat together and laid down their tiles as the voice of Willoughby (presumably on the phone with his latest victim) drifted through the vents or down the stairs or somehow transported itself to be at least somewhat audible in the kitchen where the two were playing. And at the end of the game -- in which the Prince outwitted the white mother and won by several dozen points -- he arranged for a Wednesday night run.

Mostly, the white mother feels like she's setting herself up for disaster. Which is unfortunate. Dodging bullets, walking on egg shells, call it what you will. The suitors have done nothing to communicate that they are aware of the other house members' relationships with the white mother. But all are aware of the white mother's imminent departure; so she wonders if they need be aware, or if the outings are only perpetuating a friendship. The white mother is somewhat concerned for all involved in this mess of a twisted situation and would appreciate any advice from the Three White Mothers or any willing outside contributors.

Lest we forget, there is a lesson in all of this, even though the story has yet to conclude. The lesson to be learned is mostly for those who will never read this story. It is a lesson for the suitors of the world: learn to communicate with those of the same house. It would do you well.