The movie is just as boring as I remember it, but Derek stares at the screen, transfixed, and asks the occasional odd question that Riley is quick to answer. “Who rescues Elsa?” he eventually wants to know.
Riley still lays across our laps, her chin propped up in her hand, and my thigh has gone numb from her pointy little elbow digging into it. “Elsa doesn’t need to be rescued,” she says, in a no-nonsense tone.
“But isn’t she a princess?” Derek asks.
With a shake of her head, Riley rolls her eyes. “She’s the queen. She’s the one who saves her sister from the bad guy.”
“Who is the prince,” I add, as if he might have somehow missed it.
Derek nods slowly. “Ah, okay. So this is a feminist movie.”
“The only true love in it is between the sisters,” I tell him. “In the end, Elsa saves Anna
