I hate the title Princess. But in that moment, I've never felt so adored. Leave it up to a 3-year-old boy to make me feel like a million bucks. And I'll take it. Give him a few minutes and he'll be smearing snot across my sleeve, whining that he doesn't want to take a bath, reminding me that my life is far from royal. And let's face it, my days are consumed with ketchup stains and playing make-believe dinosaurs. Dresses, make-up, and blown out hair is better left for movie stars and drag queens.