In the Kingdom, we like our coffee.
In the Kingdom, we MUST have our coffee.
Mornings are just NOT royally acceptable, until a pot of coffee is brewing, filling the house with the eye-opening aromas.
The Queen just doesn’t feel completely herself, until she has had her first cuppa, with 2 splenda and tons of cream. What can the Queen say? She likes it sweet and creamy. Or…she’s a royal bitch.
Now, if you’ve been hanging out in the Kingdom for some time, you are perfectly aware of all the coffee makers that the Royal couple has gone through.
There was a Mr. Royal Coffee…
And a DeLonghi…
And a couple others.
That the King and Queen treated…almost as well as the royal midgets…er…princes and princesses.
But sadly, the coffee makers didn’t thrive.
Their small electronic lives were always cut short.
Some cracking in strange places.
Some pots exploding.
Some dying from unknown causes.
None of them making it past a year.
Much to the dismay of the Queen. And her King.
They mourned each Royal coffee maker.
And laid them to rest, sending them to the coffee maker graveyard in the sky.
Then…the Queen got wise. Not that she wasn’t before. So, we’ll say…wisER.
She found out about a $9 coffee maker from Target. Her FAVORITE store. EVER.
She went running, blindfolded, on auto-pilot…
to the closest Target. And turned over $9. And brought home a new. Wonderful. No bells. No whistles. Coffee maker.
She loved it.
The King loved it.
It was white so it matched the cracked Corian in the Royal Kitchen.
It was PERFECTION of the most royalest kind.
The Queen was upstairs in the mecca of love room.
Obsessing over grinding. And…over what to post about for today.
When suddenly. From the nether regions of the castle.
The Queen heard a deep voice. Loud. ANGRY. CURSING.
So the Queen sighed. Because this was distracting her from obsessing over her obsessions.
And she went running downstairs, royal robe billowing behind her. Well, to be perfectly honest, royal robe practically twisting around her ankles, threatening to trip her…down the stairs.
Breathlessly, she entered the kitchen.
To find the King. The maker of the loud, angry, cursing…distractions.
Holding the BRAND NEW-ISH coffee pot. That belongs to…fits perfectly with…the brand newish coffee maker.
He broke. The. BRAND. NEW. COFFEE. POT.
Which only meant…
NO COFFEE. And…no coffee maker…AGAIN.
So the Queen. She made some loud, angry, cursing noises herself.
Along with some angry gesturing. But we won’t get into all that very UN-Queenly behavior. Although, remember, the Queen can’t act very royal without her first morning cup of sweet and creamy coffee.
And the King. Thought he could remedy it. At least for today.
By taking another extra coffee pot. Putting it into the PERFECT $9 coffee maker. And somehow, he rigged it with a knife. Creating a very mud-like concoction. Which the King happens to be calling…the Royal Americano.
And the Queen. Gratefully accepted the cup of Royal Americano. Because the Queen is always grateful for the things the King does. Except for breaking the coffee makers. And not fixing the Royal Purple Bathroom. Which…another post WILL be due for that!
The Queen. She took her rigged coffee. And she grabbed her laptop.
And realized that…
The King. Who is home for a couple of weeks before he has to teach Royal Summer School.
Will always provide blog fodder for the Queen.
So that the only thing the Queen needs to truly obsess about is…
How to prevent the royal bratlings from EVER grinding.
And how to get the rest of the Kingdom involved in mowing the medians.
And how to get the King to fix the royal purple bathroom, once and for all.
And how to find the perfect, indestructible coffee maker.
And the Queen.
Drank her homemade Royal Americano.
In the Kingdom, we like our coffee.