A Tragic Tale

Come gather round, pull up a chair, grab a cup of hot chocolate and join me as I will soon be spinning a tale full of mystery, love, and tragedy.

Once upon a time (as we all know all great tales begin this way) in a not so far away kingdom there was a beautiful Queen who lived with her handsome King and wonderful children. This Queen was good, and kind and practically perfect in every way. ((Hold it, hold it- you can't steal cliche lines from other stories! Excuse me-but who are you? This is my story I can tell it how I want)). As I was saying, this Queen was good and had but one major flaw; for you see this queen had hardly any sense of smell. ((No sense of smell?!? That is her flaw what kind of lame tale is this? Would you just stop interrupting and listen? You will realize how vital this flaw is. Oh if I must.)). So this Queen had had this flaw as long as she could remember. Most of the time this flaw did not interrupt her everyday life.

The Queen lived a good happy life for many years. One morning the Queen was caring for her children. "I want cinnamon sugar toast" the oldest prince declared. The Queen asked the princess what she would like, but she could not decide as was the norm for her. The Queen began preparing the princes toast. ((Why is the Queen cooking? Doesn't she have people that wait on her hand and foot? Well yes she did, but some local unions got to those people and filled their head with ideas of 40 hour work weeks and that waiting and taking care of someones needs 24 hours a day is equivalent to slavery. Or motherhood.)).

So the Queen made the toast for the young prince for which he was extremely grateful. She then again asked the princess what she wanted and the princess finally settled on regular toast. By this time the youngest prince began to fuss; whatever could be bothering him she wondered. The Queen quickly but carefully scooped up the youngest prince. She skillfully balanced him in one arm while putting the toast in the toaster. When it came time to butter the toast she found this to be a bit more challenging. She was able to conquer the task and delivered the toast to the young princess.

After she delivered the toast she noticed some yellow butter on her finger. How did that get there she wondered. She lifted her finger and stuck out her tongue to remove the offensive butter. GASP! Poison! The Queen had been poisoned. This offensive yellow butter was not butter! She hurried to the sink spit out this vial substance, rinsing her mouth repeatedly!

Who, who would dare try to poison the Queen? It was at this moment that the youngest prince smiled sweetly at the queen, as if to say 'it was not my fault my diaper leaked.' ((Are you saying you licked poop? Poop?!? I am not honoring your question with a response as you have done nothing but interrupt me.))

And why is the noble badge from the wonderful Glamazon at the bottom of this post?

Well because today on this Friday Confessional, I confess that the wonderful, kind, good queen was no other than myself.

Happy Friday Everyone!