“Hey, Princess? How can you be sure I’m not your prince? I mean, I’m the only kid in the whole school who’s come to your birthday party three years in a row.”
“I love you, my silly Clyde, but you are no prince.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because my prince will ride up on his white horse.”
“What if I get a white horse one day?” Clyde asked, knowing there was no way a poor kid like him could ever get a horse. He didn’t even know where to look for one, much less the rest. It was something far beyond him.
“I guess that would make you a prince,” the Princess said, and she kissed his cheek.