Sharing and Giving Are Not Natural to Me

Mommy and Daddy and I took part in something that I did not quite understand. We wrote on these signs and then took a picture of them. Daddy came up with what to write on mine, and Mommy wrote it. I had nothing to do with it, and I was not pleased.

I was much dissatisfied with my sign. Can you tell?

It appears that this was some sort of attempt to spread the word about Jesus as I talked about in my last post. That sounds wonderful, but there are two issues which I have with this particular endeavor.

Number One: I do not share, and I do not give. Other people share gifts with me, and by share, I mean relinquish to my possession. That is how a monarchy works; do not blame me, blame the system I have instituted.

Number Two: I am the most benevolent monarch there is, or ever could be. All those who believe otherwise are welcome to leave my kingdom. Pay no mind to the fact that that will be exceptionally difficult as the world is my kingdom. I could not be any more benevolent nor monarchical. I am the peak of congeniality and graciousness, and that is why I can demand you all to give me more presents, attention, and food. In fact, all would be wonderful to have in my possession at this very moment, if you do not mind kindly delivering them to my current residence. Thank you. And you are welcome.

Just as a miniature postscript, I would like to reaffirm that I love Jesus as much as any 7-month-old can, and that is why I ended up being willing to write this post. I say this in order to assuage any of your fears of sacrilege regarding such a sardonic entry such as this one.

Also, Daddy says to visit this link to learn more about the signs: christmas.mormon.org

That's What Christmas is All About, Princess Ellie

Alright, citizens, I believe I finally have gained some understanding regarding this holiday of Christmas. It seems to make the most sense out of all of the holidays I have celebrated as of yet. GrandMommyServant explained it to me by reading me a book.

"This book is implying that the world existed before me. I do not understand."

She also gave me a special group of toys that are called, altogether, a nativity.

"I am understanding everything else...but what was the sheep's role in the Savior's birth?"

The first time that I was given the nativity, I did my best to organize it.

I apologize for all of the noise, we were watching a program with a considerable amount of music. Somebody was talking and not allowing the singing to occur, so I filled in for them.

Let me explain this story to you the way that I understand it:

There is a King even more powerful than me (this was the hardest part for me to grasp. It took time, but I came to terms with it.). He has this Son, Jesus, who was born, just like me, but in circumstances surprisingly unbecoming of the Son of such a great King.

This is a representation of Him in the nativity I have. Mommy and Daddy tease about me biting Him, but if it was so sacrilegious, why did they make Him bite size?

He was the rightful king of the land He lived in, but He was not terribly worried about all of that (which is, to me, the most remarkable personality trait about Him). He spent all of His life serving others until He died (a concept I do not grasp yet) and then came back to life so that way people who are imperfect (unlike me) could repent, come back to life, and return to live with their Heavenly Daddy again. He is quite a fantastic fellow. This is, of course, not the first time my parents have spoken to me about Him, but this is most definitely the most memorable (and most photographed).

This is of fairly great import, as it explains why everyone celebrates by putting up trees, decorating their houses, giving me presents (since He is not currently here, that makes me the greatest monarch in the world, so I will gladly receive presents in His place), and accepting a bearded gentleman to enter their castles via the fireplace, when the rest of the year that would most likely end in calling the guards to apprehend such an intruder. This also puts meaning to the worship services we attend each Sunday. I now understand why it is acceptable for me to miss my beauty naps on that day so others can worship the Highest Ranking Monarch and revel in my presence, the Highest Ranking Monarch Currently on the Earth.

Yet I still fail to comprehend the purpose of that anthropomorphized snowman, Frosty....

An Existential Crisis in Seattle

Again, I was able to meet up with my cousins to take a trip into Seattle, a large city. This trip reminded me just how large of a responsibility it is to be the monarch for so many citizens, and it made me tired very quickly. I was still delightful, however, although I did not appreciate the plethora of layers I was forced to wear.

"Mommy, Cousin Hendrick's parents don't make him dress this way! Cousin Hendrick's parents truly love him."

"I am so comfortable it is uncomfortable. My life is a paradox. What is life? Who am I??"

The worst parts (even worse than that aforementioned existential crisis) were the mittens.

Notice that they are mocking my vain attempts to hold the paper. And why does he take the paper, and not the gloves?

It was still an enjoyable trip. however, as I was able to see a little train and some really fancy gingerbread castles. I do not know what gingerbread is, but it sure is ornate. I believe I need a much larger gingerbread castle of my own to live in.

"Whoa, that is a very miniature locomotive."

"Daddy how do they find such little people for such a minute train?"

"How is it that such little people can deserve such a more elaborate palace than me? Am I really the Princess of Quite-A-Lot?"

Party with the Cousins

Living at both GrandServants' castles means being in a closer proximity to many of the same cousins I had waiting on me at the beach reunion. One of the main ones I got to see was Cousin Hendrick, who I see fairly often. I have started to realize, however, that he is an exceedingly happy little boy until he is placed next to me for a photograph. I do not understand why this is, unless, perhaps, he is intimidated by my beauty. He should not be intimidated; he is an extremely handsome young man. Or perhaps he does not agree with my foreign policies. 

"Oh, goodness, you are not happy!"

"Mommy, why is he always happier away from me?"

"There, there, cousin Hendrick."

"See, Hendrick? This is how they like their Christmas photographs done: Raise your hands to the lights and say HALLELUJAH!"

"Are you all calmed down, now? That is good, but you may not have my dress."

"Are you sure you are better? You look slightly tipsy."

And then, just when we were ready for a picture, Daddy messed up and made it all fuzzy.

Cousin Hendrick has also, as of late, given into the demands of his parents and has started crawling. All present attempted to use him as an exemplar for how I should live my life, but I knew better. Once I start crawling, then my parents will stop carrying me places and expect me to get toys all by myself. I must not allow such a dangerous precedent to be set. I am, however, interested in standing, but only so I can then get closer to their height and seem more regal while demanding things from them.

"Oh, no! You have given in! I warned you about crawling!"

"I refuse to look at such a blatant display of parental control over your life."

"GrandAuntieServant Karen, do you mind distracting me from this horrific scene?"

I also was able to see other cousins, like one of my favorites, Cousin Brooklin.

"Oooh, that looks like a fun toy!"

"This is not a fun toy! Please remove it from my face!"

"Cousin Brooklin, why did you treat me that way?"

Princess Ellie, the Virtuoso

Mommy is a very talented pianist. She plays the piano at church and it sounds incredible. The best part of that, however, is that there is a large number of miniature people who sing along with what she plays. Now we have a piano at my GrandServant Littles' castle AND my GrandServant Gates' castle, so she can play as I sing my most beautiful dadadas. I have also discovered that I am naturally talented and, like Mommy, require no practice.

Look at that flawless form!

I know, not all can be as good as me at playing the piano from birth. Do not judge your performance against mine in this or any other field. It will never be a fair comparison. Perfection like this only comes along once every, well, me.

My Servants Deserve Some Applause

I have already stated that I will not perform tricks for others like some sort of jester. There are times, however, when one must acquiesce to the demands of terrorists in order to preserve the semblance of tranquility. These terrorists were my family, and they would smack their hands together in my face and encourage me to do the same. The whole ordeal startled me so much every time that they clapped that I felt it requisite for me to start mirroring their obnoxious behavior to convince them that they were allowed to leave me alone. Now I have found the action of applauding enjoyable enough for me to do it on all sorts of occasions, and the servants seem to enjoy it so much that they clap their hands for joy and say "Yaaay!"

Applauding GrandMommyServant Gates

Applauding GrandDaddyServant Gates

Applauding the performers in the Magic Box as the audience in the Magic Box applauds

Applauding my toys

Applauding Mommy

Why do this trick and not others? It shows appreciation for all that they do for me, raises their morale, and thus causes them to want to do more for me. You're welcome, kind servants.

Dadadadada

In the last few weeks I have started making a quite unique noise, as recorded by Daddy in the moving picture below.

I apologize for the background noise. This was recorded in a large place which will be written about later. I do not know what Daddy was thinking.

Everyone I see seems delighted by these vocalizations. I was, at first, quite nonplussed as to the reasoning for this excitement, but then everybody started indicating Daddy, claiming he was Dada. This is ludicrous to an extreme extent, as Dada is obviously not Daddy. I sometimes worry that Mommy and Daddy are losing their hearing in their old age. Or their minds.

"My poor, senile parents."

Below is a translation of my royal language into your uncivilized peasant dialect.

Da=That is quite an interesting thought, but I do not believe that there are quite the resources to satiate such a demand. Instead, it may be a better solution to simply give me a toy and/or food.
Dad=Daddy! I love you! Will you please give me a toy and/or food? (or, if he is not around) I miss it when Daddy brings me toys and/or food.
Dada=Fetch me some food and/or a toy, servant.
Da Da = My nappy needs to be replaced. Only a toy AND some food will restore my contentment in this life.
Dadada=I have quite enjoyed obliging to your inherent need for me to grace your arms with my presence, but I have grown tired of the blatant affection and would quite appreciate being returned to the ground where I may control my own destiny. Please supply me with toys and food later.
Dadadadada Da Dadada = Mommy, I love you! Mommy, I do! I'd love you more though if you'd give me food.

This is just a sampling. The royal language is quite complex and is dependent on situation, pitch of my voice, and annunciation, and truly requires the hearer to have the capability to read my mind in order to fully comprehend.