Two Weeks in a Castle

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In between dog sitting assignments, I've been transformed into a princess. Friends from church have opened their home to me, letting the "guest room" become mine, and I feel like a princess.

Why? The reasons are many, but let me tell you just a few:
I have a full length mirror!
My room is beautiful and welcoming
And… best of all, I get my very own bathroom.

What more could a princess want?

But sadly, since 1776, this country hasn't been overly kind to princesses. And since I've heard that guests are only welcome guests for three days, I began to think that I should put aside my princess identity and take out the trash or scrub toilets or something.

But I've been told I'm not allowed to do those things. The only time I've ever stayed somewhere for more than three days where it was not my responsibility to clean, I had to worry about eating too much from the minibar and accruing a nightmarish charge.

So I ate a cupcake from the fridge and fished out my check book.

But the king and queen of the castle would have none of it.
"When we need a check from you, we will let you know."
"Yes, use it for your trip to Brazil!"
My futile objection: "But my trip is already paid for!"
"Then use it to buy something while you are there."
"Yes, what is it that they are well known for in Brazil? Bikinis, or something."
"Right, right… the girl from Ipamena or Ipanema or whatever it is."

But gentle readers, this trip will not take me to Ipanema. Moreover, I have absolutely no intention of spending the cost of living two weeks in a castle on a bikini.

Comments

Matthew Carroll said…
The more you spend on a bikini, does it get more modest or less so?
11:38 PM
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