Within five minutes of announcing, “Oh dear, I’m coming down with a cold, Mommy,” Princess Genevieve has made numerous demands for:
Hot Chicken Noodle Soup (“Could you please make the homemade kind right away?” “No, I cannot. It will have to be from a can this time.” “Fine.”)
Ice Cream (“To cool my throat.” “Ice cream is not always the best thing for a cold. How about ice water?” the Queen Mother suggests. “Nope. Ice cream, please. This kind of cold gets better faster with ice cream.”)
Assistance with Nose Blowing (“Please, come blow my nose right now.” “You can blow your own nose, Genevieve.” “It goes better if you help.” “Practice makes perfect. You’ll get it if you keep trying.” The Queen and her Princess run through three nose-blowing practice sessions.)
More water. (“We ran out of ice, Gigi, I’m sorry!” “Please make more ice immediately so it will be ready the next time I need it for my throat.”)
A Line-Up of Kiddie Shows on Netflix… so, as the ill Princess Child explains, she can sit in the King’s leather TV-Watching-Throne and rest more comfortably.
A Second Blanket… from the extra blanket/pillow basket in the living room… to be placed over the beloved first “blankie” that has already been draped, just so, over the coughing, nose-dripping royal body.
Death to the Fly…that is so pesky and intrusive…to the Royal Highness…who sits peacefully, save the occasional spasm of hacking, upon her father’s leather throne. (In between the many “Shoo Fly, Shoo Fly!” yelps heard over the last half hour, have also come many directives by the Princess for the Queen Mother to KILL the fly with a newspaper (“Do we have a fly swatter, Mommy?” Who knew Gigi even knew what a fly swatter was!), to PICK up the dead fly carcass with a tissue and lastly, to quickly DISPOSE of the insect. Because the repeated requests to assassinate the fly have been completely ignored by the Queen Mother, the Princess has been forced to yell angrily, “Mommy! The fly is here again! Shoo! Shoo! Shoo! Come kill the nasty, germy fly this instant!!!!”
My dear Princess, the Queen Mother tiredly wonders, how many hours until your father, the great and benevolent King, returns to the castle to assist, to relieve, to cuddle, to wipe…to administer to…thee?