Makeover
Simba narrowed his eyes and tapped his chin with his finger. As King, making difficult decisions was simply part of the job. Every day he had to make a choice about something, big or small, that would affect everyone in the Kingdom. Usually he could make peace with those decisions, but today he wasn’t sure that he would make the right choice.
He sighed and laced his fingers together. This was going to be hard. No doubt there were people who were going to be upset by this choice, and hell, he wasn’t even sure if he wouldn’t regret the decision later. But not making a choice was often worse than making the wrong choice. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.”
“Alright. I’ll have Chick Flick Cherry.”
His daughter, a prim four year old with hair his mother’s fiery red color but somehow straight like his, grinned. “Great choice,” she said smoothly, and picked up the bottle of nail polish.
“Chick Flick Cherry? Are you kidding me? That’s going to do absolutely nothing for you, seriously. Do You Lilac It would do so much more for your eyes,” said Flynn as his little girl concentrated on his own nails.
“I’m going to add tiny little curlicues!” said the girl, who had Rapunzel’s eyes and apparently, her talent for painting.
“That’s great sweetheart. I mean look at this and don’t tell me I Can’t Cope-acabana isn’t perfect for my complexion.”
Simba snorted and laid his head back in the chair.
“After we paint your nails, we’re gonna pick out the perfect gowns for the ball!” said his daughter, and both the girls nodded.
“You can say whatever you want about my nails,” said Simba. “But my hair looks amazing.” It was full of little clips and bows, with a nice big yellow flower tucked behind his ear to finish off the look.
Flynn snorted. “I’m still prettier than you, man.”
Simba shrugged. “Whatever you say Flynn. Whatever you say.”