"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
He nearly tried to kiss me, but I turned away. I have heard from a show about regal people such as my self called "Downton Abbey," which my parents watch at times instead of watching me, that royals do occasionally marry their cousins. I apologize to the plethora of people of royal blood who I am sure are regular readers, but that is just too ridiculous for me to even consider.
"You are a handsome fellow, but I must look for a prince who is not related to me."
The best part of that visit, however, was when my parents allowed me to stand in this fascinating structure called a Jumperoo. It is delightful! It has far more toys than necessary and lets me stand like my parents. My cousin likes to jump in it, but I find that it is more pleasurable to utilize its ability to let me swing myself back and forth. Jumping is just not very princess-like.
"Hey Mommy! Can you go get me one of these? Thanks!"
My relatives were extremely selfish and refused my demands to take acquisition of their Jumperoo, so I left fairly distraught. Yet my parents, obviously feeling the guilt I let fester in their chest from dressing me like a hooligan for the Halloween holiweek, spoke with both sets of grandparents and they ordered me one. It is now my favorite toy, second only to Daddy's glasses and Mommy's hair. It just has so many things to discover, like an alligator in a spinny thing, lights that light up and bounce back and forth, and this monkey.
"Behold! The monkey! It tempts me so! There it dangles, close enough for me to reach, but not close enough to stick in my mouth." I believe I am quite the thespian. Pay special attention to the dramatic thrust out of my left hand. I deserve an award to chomp down on.
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