The princess arrived from Florida/St. Croix on day twelve, and my first impression was, she ain’t near as bad as her daddy lets on. She’s actually kinda sweet in her own special way, and has an accent that falls somewhere between early south and rap, with a twist of jolly old England lurking in there somewhere. It’s quite entertaining to listen to her talk.
One of the first things she wanted to know was if Texas has a queen and if not, where could she put in her application. I deftly avoided the questions, and I’m hoping she forgets about it before Saturday.
We did have a bit of a set-to over the kitchen arrangements. She insists a cake should be baked in honor of her Gran’s eightieth birthday, and SHE will decorate it. I’m sorry, but I have reservations about turning the lass loose in my kitchen with colored frostings. Although, maybe that will keep her busy and she’ll forget about driving the golf cart. Now, THAT’S a frightening thought! The gleam in her eyes when she saw it was chilling to say the least.
Tried to get her to take the peddle boat out on the lake, but the look she gave me regarding that suggestion was colder than the water in said lake. She also did some ‘splainin as to how that wasn’t going to happen, and the air turned a pale shade of blue as she spoke.
That’s the look! (Note the blue air around her.)
Don’t git me wrong, I like the gal, and I’m fairly certain I can survive the weekend. My kitchen and golf cart… well… I ain’t so sure.
Names have not been used in the writing of this brief article, and I don’t think an explanation is needed. I heard a sweet young voice asking someone yesterday afternoon, if guillotines were still in use in Texas.
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