Every year we choose the new king and queen of our park by drawing their name on New Year's Eve and last night I was the unlucky lady to have her name drawn. I felt like a trapped animal with nowhere to run because I can't stand to be centered out like that. This was no honor as far as I was concerned.
My king, a man I don't know, and I donned purple robes and crowns and I was handed a small glass sceptre. We stood like idiots as our pictures were taken and everyone had a good laugh. I've always enjoyed this little tradition but that was when it was someone else carrying it on.
The king and queen have a few duties for the year such as wearing the purple robes and riding on a cart during our park parade. I'm not sure what else. It's going to take a major attitude adjustment on my part to make light of all this and get into the spirit of the game. No-one wants to see a sourpuss queen.
One of my subjects came over to my table and gave me one of those twinkly clip on pins so I began to ask others what they had for me. This is a short list...congratulations, a cheezy, a kick in the ass. Apparently the royalty in this park don't get a lot of respect.
Oh well, like gas, this too shall pass.
3 comments:
Milk if for all it's worth. Take charge of your subjects!!!!!
My mom, the queen! Hey, that means we're princesses! Score! LOL
Happy New Year your Majesty!
P.S. Can I still call you Mom?
The most precious title I've ever had is "Mom".
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