On Thursday we went to this fantastic locale called a beach. It was very nice. I slept the whole way there; the royal chariot was quite comfortable. My parents and Grandma and Grandpa Gates tried to find me some sort of clothing item I could wear to protect my porcelain skin, but were unable to. Grandma Little and I call my skin porcelain, but Daddy calls it pasty, which I find to be demeaning. Apparently Mommy was afraid I would be albino because they are both so fair skinned. They have yet to say, however, whether or not I am albino... Anyway, the beach. The beach was fun, once we got to it. Grandpa and Daddy put up a little shelter contraption to keep my skin nice and fair (I like the term fair as well, because that's what they say about princesses, right? Fairest of them all? I do not believe anyone is much fairer than me). I believe the beach is a very nice place to visit and lay on with a shelter over me and a tarp below me and sunglasses on and left alone for hours. Mommy and Daddy tried to take me in a carrier up to the water and I did not like that. Not that I found the ocean to be scary, because I am sure it is included in my kingdom as well and would follow my commands just as everything else does, but I wanted to return to laying on the ground. Regally, of course. After awhile, we loaded up the chariot and left the beach behind. I fell asleep again but woke up in a wonderful place called Red Robin were I was able to eat and watch my family eat as well. Adults eating is fascinating. I love to watch them eat. If what they say is true, and I will eventually be like them, I look forward to being able to eat the most. I already grab and shove everything I can into my mouth, but when they do it, the items disappear! And stay down! Even when I eat, I regurgitate some later (I apologize if that is too graphic for some. I realize speaking of bodily functions is not very lady-like, but this is my diary after all, and you are all the loyal subjects willing to read it.
The next day we visited my Daddy's Daddy's Mommy. She was nice and held me some. She apparently crocheted me some of the stuff I have before I was born. I also visited with my Daddy's Mommy's Mommy again, but she kept refusing to just let me lay down. I really do wonder when people will learn how to read my mind. The next day was very restful, but I was coming to the end of my patience with this trip. There is just so much worshiping and adoring and cuddling and snuggling and gift-giving a little princess can take. Plus I had this weird itching in my mouth that started up that they call teething. I do not know what that means, but perhaps I will get those white things in my mouth that will let me eat food like adults do. Sunday was the last day, and that meant returning to the worship services and accepting further adoration from those beneath me. We flew home that night, and I slept the whole way. I did not even fuss when Mommy would not lay me down on the ground. I was just too tired to complain. When we were leaving the plane, people said things like "When I first saw that there was a baby on this flight, I was worried. But she was perfect." Why was this woman afraid of me being on her flight? I can only assume it was due to the higher threat of attack being around monarchy. Silly lady, she should know that everyone loves me and would never hurt me. She should be like me and trust everyone to the point of letting them hold her. And of course I was perfect. Another woman said "I did not even know she was there!" She should be more attentive. You never know when somebody famous like myself will be on your flight!
Love,
Princess Ellie
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