If you read my daughter, Michelle's blog, Creative Treasures, she recently posted about a December trip she and Wilt took to St Marten. During that trip they met a couple from Scotland who were quite impressed by the fact that my ancestors were of Scottish descent with Kinghorn as the family name. These folks did, in fact, live in a village, town, city, or whatever, in Scotland named Kinghorn. They told Michelle that all Scots knew that the Kinghorns are of royal blood and so were very thrilled to meet her. Bill warned them not to fawn over her too much for fear she would demand to be treated as a Queen on a daily basis.
Royalty, huh? Well..........today while I was feeling a little burst of energy, I decided to do some heavy duty house cleaning, moving every piece of furniture to vacuum up all the dust bunnies, dead spiders, partially eaten dog cookies, loose coins, etc., etc. After the vacuuming, and before I moved the furniture back into place, I got out my handy, dandy Scrubee Doo mop and washed the wood floors, followed by washing and polishing the tables and vacuuming a bag full of dog hair off the sofa. I continued on in sections throughout my living room and into my dining area and kitchen.
By the time I had finished with the kitchen and was sitting on the floor vacuuming the hair from Buddy's dog bed, my tired was hurting and I was thinking about my "royal" blood and what a "royal" pain in the butt this house cleaning crap can be. "Geesh," I thought, "The queen would never do this crap! So why am I in this contorted position on the floor, vacuuming hair from a dog bed? This eyen't right! I shud 'ave a "royal" maid tiken' care of my castle. I am, after all, of "royal" blood."
I continued with this thought as I crawled over to the cabinets to pull myself to an upright position. "Hmmm, I could hire someone to do my bidding.", I was thinking. But then reality sank it's ugly teeth into me and I realized that before I could bring a cleaning person into my home, I would have to do some more heavy duty cleaning. Someone of my "stature", couldn't allow a mere peon see my dirty palace, you understand. It would probably be spashed over every tabloid in the country...............The Kinghorn Queen is a Slob!
Not wanting to take that chance of ruining the family name, I said to myself........."God save the Queen, she needs a nap!" And that she did, for the next two hours. Royalty? Yeah, right.