"Daddy, I want to go to the park."
A brief statement, laced with the solemn gravity that only a 5 year old queen can muster. My heart, the heart of the Captain of the Guard, flutters briefly as those words charge the air. I am a fool to think I can resist.
"I want to got to the park with the green tubey slide. The big one."
I turn away from the computer, task forgotten, no hope of completing it now. The television is muttering loudly, yellow sponges and pink stars running in circles around my peripheral vision. I smile. The Queen doesn't realize that I want to go outside anyway. She just knows that the antics on the screen bore her now, time to saddle up the royal entourage and show the royal visage to the lucky subjects at the park. The geese, the dogs: they bow and scrape before her glory.
"You mean the lake? With the big playground and the tent?"
She scoffs, as if the Captain was sorely lacking in brains. Why else would he have stated something so bleeding obvious? She sighs, and giggles.
"Yes, Daddy, where else?"
I laugh, as we walk out the door to the car. So the green tubey slide it is. I buckle her in to her car seat. Hair the color of a late summer cornfield brushes my cheek as the Queen fidgets. I double check the straps. Woe betide the man who fails Her Majesty's safety!
We pull out of the parking lot and on the access road leading away from Her Weekend Palace. The Queen, oblivious to my ruminations, chatters to herself, singing a nonsensical song that might as well be the aria of an angel. I am rapt, acutely aware of my allegiances. Loyalty? Of course, don't be silly. There is no tainted loyalty here.
Stoplight. I am watching the traffic, and I idly mention going to the boat dock at the lake, maybe looking for geese or Brother Heron. Her Royal Cuteness suddenly sits bolt upright.
"Wait, daddy, I wanted to go to the park with the purple playground!"
Purple? She clearly said green tubey slide. The purple playground, so called because the paint and plastic of the slides and bars is purple, is in the opposite direction. I will not argue.
"If we go there, we won't have time to go to the lake, alright?" I say, glancing into the rear view mirror.
The Queen looks at me with rose window eyes. She smiles.
"It's okay, Daddy, I have a plan."
I can't help but smile. It's good to have a plan, especially if you are a queen. We turn right, instead of left, headed for a child's delight decked out in the color of royalty.
A brief statement, laced with the solemn gravity that only a 5 year old queen can muster. My heart, the heart of the Captain of the Guard, flutters briefly as those words charge the air. I am a fool to think I can resist.
"I want to got to the park with the green tubey slide. The big one."
I turn away from the computer, task forgotten, no hope of completing it now. The television is muttering loudly, yellow sponges and pink stars running in circles around my peripheral vision. I smile. The Queen doesn't realize that I want to go outside anyway. She just knows that the antics on the screen bore her now, time to saddle up the royal entourage and show the royal visage to the lucky subjects at the park. The geese, the dogs: they bow and scrape before her glory.
"You mean the lake? With the big playground and the tent?"
She scoffs, as if the Captain was sorely lacking in brains. Why else would he have stated something so bleeding obvious? She sighs, and giggles.
"Yes, Daddy, where else?"
I laugh, as we walk out the door to the car. So the green tubey slide it is. I buckle her in to her car seat. Hair the color of a late summer cornfield brushes my cheek as the Queen fidgets. I double check the straps. Woe betide the man who fails Her Majesty's safety!
We pull out of the parking lot and on the access road leading away from Her Weekend Palace. The Queen, oblivious to my ruminations, chatters to herself, singing a nonsensical song that might as well be the aria of an angel. I am rapt, acutely aware of my allegiances. Loyalty? Of course, don't be silly. There is no tainted loyalty here.
Stoplight. I am watching the traffic, and I idly mention going to the boat dock at the lake, maybe looking for geese or Brother Heron. Her Royal Cuteness suddenly sits bolt upright.
"Wait, daddy, I wanted to go to the park with the purple playground!"
Purple? She clearly said green tubey slide. The purple playground, so called because the paint and plastic of the slides and bars is purple, is in the opposite direction. I will not argue.
"If we go there, we won't have time to go to the lake, alright?" I say, glancing into the rear view mirror.
The Queen looks at me with rose window eyes. She smiles.
"It's okay, Daddy, I have a plan."
I can't help but smile. It's good to have a plan, especially if you are a queen. We turn right, instead of left, headed for a child's delight decked out in the color of royalty.
Posts
But then plan, what about the plan? Did you ever find out what the plan was? If there was a purple playground near me I'd ask my dad to take me there.
ReplyDeleteI'm with Mo - what was the plan?
ReplyDeleteDitto the purple park, although the green tubey slide sounds rather intriguing.
They always have a plan don't they?
ReplyDeleteYou will go from Royal Guard Captain to Court Jester in just a few years. When you no longer amuse her, she will turn her attention to some young prince (or varlet, one can never be sure) and you will be left alone in the castle. Enjoy her majesty's favor while you can. They are so sweet when they are young.
ReplyDeleteHow terrific was the visit to the park?
ReplyDeleteWound forever tightly around the littlest of fingers. As it should be, especially if one is queen.
ReplyDeleteI love it when they have a plan.
ReplyDeleteLovely, Lovely, Thanks for reminding me of the magic of "Queens".
ReplyDelete:)
ReplyDeleteI hope you had a great time.
Being a King comes with a few caveats, doesn't it? Like, "Princesses and/or Queens rank over Kings" or "King Plans are subsumed by Princess and/or Queen Plans." Still, I like being a King, even with all the rules.
ReplyDeleteThis hurts my heart.
ReplyDeleteSo what was the plan? Did you meet Stan in the tan van?
ReplyDeleteAh...she has you wound tightly, eh?
ReplyDeleteAnd for sure...when they are little, they always have a plan.
When they get older, they have a plan but usually get found out! hehe
Treasure every moment when they are little because when they get old enough to drive, you never see them after that!
I want to know what the plan was, how it worked out, did we ever get to the lake? Seriously ... we like to know these things!! Specially about Royalty!!!!
ReplyDelete