Giving Thanks for Family and a Tree

This has been the best few days that I can remember. Granted, I cannot recall much, but these days have been especially splendid. One day I awoke to find that not only was Daddy home, but a tree had mysteriously appeared inside our house. When Mommy made me aware of its presence, I looked at it incredulously, unsure how it had arrived. I slowly realized, however, that the reason was unimportant, and allowed a wry smile to cross my lips as I looked at Daddy. I am still learning his inane language, so I hope that my look conveyed the message "I am nonplussed; yet I approve." It is no ordinary tree, either, as colored lights and, most recently, toys adorn its branches. There is a fence surrounding the tree, so I may not touch more than the tip of its most outstretched branches, but that is enough. I still occasionally point outside, yell "TWEE!" and then point at our new occupant and say "Twee," attempting to explain my wonder. This, along with Daddy's presence, would have made this day a wondrous one, but it got somehow more magical when, after a long, fulfilling nap, I awoke to both GrandMommyServants in my room, and two GrandDaddyServants awaiting my presence near the tree. I expressed my excitement as much as princessly possible, and showed them the tree. I showed my dolls the tree again, too, although I had done so before my nap as well. We ate a meal that included turkeys (they say "bobblebobble." I say that, too, but only when I want milk), but I stuck with mashed potatoes and rolls. We talked about all that we had, all of the things for which we were grateful, and how the food was exceedingly delicious. I stated fervently that I was most grateful for being placed by the window, that I may adequately bend the blinds. The blinds were moved, and I was then grateful for being able to touch the glass. Daddy then put me into my dress with a turkey that was far more palatable than that which was upon the table. Below are photographs from me in my gown providing entertainment to my family. Note how the fence is no longer surrounding the stage, thus giving me a better location to perform for my family and servants.

I was then placed inside of a very comfortable outfit.

Since that first day, I have had Daddy with me all day and have seen each of the GrandServants. On the next day, I went shopping with Mommy and Daddy and two GrandServants. We were gone for hours, but I did not mind as I was sure of two things. Firstly, I was spending the day with my family, and I was grateful for that. Secondly, all things purchased were for me. What use I have for Daddy-sized shirts and a book with paper pages is beyond me, as is why everyone behaved so oddly by hiding their purchases from one another. I saw all of the purchases, and as only some appeared worthwhile, their need for secrecy seemed unnecessary. I know not to where all of those items have gone, but I patiently await their reappearance. I then skipped a nap and played with my other GrandServants. Today I will be seeing all GrandServants once more. All the while, I have been in the presence of the tree quite often. I was even allowed to assist in its decoration.

Daddy let me put the "shtaw" on top.

I am still unsure as to the purpose of the tree, or why there are toys upon its boughs. I would have preferred the toys be in my toy bin that I may properly sort them, but Mommy and Daddy appear unwavering in their belief that the toys remain upon the tree.

Education

I have learned many important facts since back when I had diurnal entries to my diary. Mommy and Daddy have instituted a rigorous training program which includes all the most salient information available to a princess. I must assume this information is imperative, as I know they would not dare waste my time, but I confess: I see little purpose to knowing the sounds animals make, nor why this is the foremost knowledge of which I must become aware. I feel that international economic policies and the proper means by which one should discipline a servant should have a weightier bearing on my tutelage, but I hold my silence as I am but the student and they are the seasoned monarchs. Below is a video detailing just some of the numerous details I have taken to heart. Not included in the video are the many motions necessary for singing a song about an extremely discordant bus, as well as a multiplicity of words from their preposterous dialect, including "Batman!" and "Cheese!" I know theirs to be a far less sophisticated language than my own, but I feel it necessary to instruct them on the matters of what I would like to eat and truth to which they appear to be ignorant. For example, tonight I pointed at a painting of Jesus after being told a story about service and Daddy stated "Yeah, Jesus wants us to serve others." "Oh no no no," I replied, refuting his preposterous claim. Occasionally the student must become the instructor.

Mikey and Me

We have taken in a boarder by the name of Mikey. Some lady drops him off each morning in what appears to be a picnic basket. I can only assume that he is meant to be a substitute jester while my usual jester, Daddy disappears for the majority of most days. Unlike Daddy, though, Mikey is much smaller and appears to not understand his role in being my entertainment. He has the bad habit of believing he has the right to touch my toys. I allow him to do so, however, as I am, after all, The Benevolent Monarch. He plays with me adequately, but unlike the rest of my loyal citizenry who nearly demand my presence upon their laps, Mikey cries whenever I sit upon him. Luckily, he has me to instruct him in the ways of life, including walking, talking, and the art of making loud noises simultaneously or, as my parents call it, singing. I have also, like all good teachers, learned much from him, such as the joys of throwing all books off of shelves: a pleasure in which he has lost interest, but which I have continued. All in all, though, I have come to enjoy - and not simply endure - his presence. Each morning I attempt to escape Mommy to eagerly open the picnic basket so that I may awake him from his selfish slumber and start our day of frivolity.

Candy Solicitation Days

I have recently participated in a holiday that, as far as I can tell, is the greatest of all holidays: Halloween. How could a princess such as myself not enjoy collecting taxes from my willing peasantry? Despite the fact that I was forced to wear ridiculous garb, was not dressed as a princess (again, like last year, Mommy was the princess, and I was not; at lease this year I was fully dressed), and had to collect each piece of candy individually from each hovel, I could not help but bask in the polite acquiescence of my constituency. 

 I hated these wings, but my subjects seemed to appreciate them.

The celebration starts off by dressing up in themed costumes.

I do not, however, know the theme, and neither did many others.

Then all the kingdom gathers together for a dance party. Mommy and Daddy foolishly believed we were meant to eat here as well, but I insisted on never sitting still long for them to attempt to feed me.

Next, we hide in a room until it is time for all miniaturized people known as children to go about collecting taxes. I know, of course, that all others feigned their collections and my citizens did, in fact, hand me my dues. I appreciated their motion to make me feel more comfortable through their pretending, however, as it is somewhat embarrassing demanding taxes in person, and it is more fun to do with a crowd.

"Zeezuss!"

 "oOohh!"

During this waiting period, there is no greater way than to revel in the glory of candy.

Then comes the solicitation. I could not believe how easily the world obliged to the simple request. I need not say a word to receive candy, despite the urging of Mommy and Daddy. I did, however, wave whenever Daddy told me to say "Thank you."

The final step is to repeat the process outside the next night.

Unlike the first night, it the whole of the proceedings are outside, which required quite a bit of assistance from Daddy.

Thankfully, I had cousins on hand to request that I be allowed to select my own candy.

 The walk up to the doorways were quite long, too. Daddy carried me between the abodes, but would place me upon the ground and allow me to walk up to the doorway. As soon as my feet were upon the ground, I would yell "GO GO GOOOO!"  Yet, inevitably, something more interesting would distract me from my goal halfway to the door.

Daddy was always there, however, to guide the way. 

"Please, kind sir, let us cut the pleasantries: Have you any chocolate?"

Finally, it is time to sort through the taxes for those which are worthy of my consumption, namely...

 CHOCOLATE!

Autumn Photographs

Many, many things have occurred since Daddy decided that "earning money to support our family" exceeded the importance of writing about me daily. He will update you upon my opinions related to current events of the day at another time. For this entry, however, I feel that it is necessary to display my beauty. Mommy and Daddy took me to two locations to photograph me. One seemed a very peculiar location for photographs, as it was very messy. I did appreciate the high volume of pumpkins, or, as I call them, "Pumpums." I have a novel on the subject of pumpums through which I quite enjoy to peruse and have thus become very attached to these gourds. Yet these pumpums were in especially muddy areas, and as I wished to remain pristine for my photographs, I kept my distance.

These two photographs are Mommy's and Daddy's favorites from this excursion.

I hugged a pumpum without being asked, but Daddy missed the opportunity to capture the moment. Instead, all he got was a photograph of me asking Mommy if she seriously believed that I would touch this particularly filthy gourd.

I ran and stomped much.

I attempted to follow Daddy into a maze but found it quite perplexing.

While I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, I found the pumpums behind GrandServants L's house to be far cleaner.

The next destination was to wondrous fields where older children frolicked about chasing balls. I wished to join them, or at least be allowed to watch, but my parental units demanded that I sit still and be photographed for their enjoyment. It was devastating, but I was devastatingly adorable.

One of my GrandDaddyServants stood behind the camera and danced like a jester. I knew not the purpose for his dance, but it sure was captivating.

"Yay! Dance, GrandDaddyServant! Dance!"

"Why are we looking over here? I want people to see my eyes."

Are not my eyes stunning?

I quite enjoyed sitting atop Daddy's shoulders...

...whilst pulling his hair.

"Is this where you would like my gaze to be focused?"

"I love you, Mommy, but why can I not go play ball?"

Looking upon these photographs once more nearly makes me regret not behaving more. Nearly.

I was quite cooperative for this photograph, though, was I not? See, I can be a good girl.

I am still perplexed as to the purpose of the chair outside, but I quite enjoyed it.

I hope Daddy is able to update you on all else that has occurred in my life. As for now, however, please enjoy these photographs and those from a similar experience a year ago, which you can enjoy by clicking here.

Family Home Evening

Mommy and Daddy have always insisted I participate in a weekly activity known as Family Home Evening. This is where we would gather together in the living room, exactly like every other night, but on this night they would pray while I giggled at them. Then they would talk about their plans for the week as I attempted to gain their attention, and finally they would read to me from a book that I, try as I might, failed to destroy. I also failed at grasping the importance of this activity. Now that we live closer to GrandServants, I now know what it is that Mommy and Daddy were missing in their family home evenings: baskets of peculiarly shaped items and a framed painting of Jesus.

"I know the word 'Stop!' It is the word Daddy says when he wants to chase me. I dutifully run as swiftly as possible in the opposite direction."

The first week that we did a proper Family Home Evening, I was presented with the painting of Jesus and asked to place depictions of heads upon it. I know not the reason, but I obeyed.

"Jeezzzuzzz!"

"Yes, I understand that Jesus loves Mommy, but to whom does this disembodied head belong?"

"Does Jesus love Mickey?"

"...but Daddy has a beard..."

GrandMommyServant enjoys attempting to direct my play during these activities. I appreciate the time together, and being informed that I am loved, but I always gently remind her that I am in control.

Now, whenever I visit their house, I demand that the GrandServants immediately lower Family Home Evening that I may carry the baskets about and organize accordingly.