… spindle wheel! Apparently, any person under the age of twenty can die from pricking their finger on the needle, but we’re not that young anymore, so I figured…" Stanley paused hesitantly, to observe his wife’s reaction.

“You’re absolutely hopeless!” she screeched, and he almost dodged the bowl that she threw at him. Stanley groaned and massaged his cheek.

“By the way, did we get any mail?” He asked casually.

“No,” his wife replied, her eyes suspiciously glancing around the room. “Why should we?”

“Oh… it’s just that the King’s having a ball for his new born, and I was sure we’d get an invite.”

“How did you know he was giving a ball?”

“I bumped into two of your sisters on the way home.”

“HE INVITED THEM AND NOT ME?!”

“Well,” Stanley said, even more hesitant. “We could always prick his daughter’s finger on our new spindle wheel…”

“Yes, of course!” His wife screamed triumphantly. In the back of her mind, she thought: It only takes one person to trick the brat into pricking her finger…