I have no idea why I am so excited by a long weekend. It’s not like I have a cottage to go to, or a camping weekend planned – or a social life, for that matter.
A three-day weekend essentially means three straight days of house work. I get the inside chores. The Carpenter gets the outside work. While absolutely nothing about that excites me, I have a plan to keep it interesting.
Inspired by a royal wedding and a holiday honouring Queen Victoria’s birthday, I’m going to be a royal pain in the Carpenter’s aspirations all weekend long.
But first, I must watch TV. On Saturday morning I will watch the royal wedding in my royal bathrobe from the comfort of my plush throne (micro-fibre couch). I am intrigued by this event because the bride’s family members are as dysfunctional as the rest of us, which makes her relatable and proves that money, status and privilege comes with its own brand of crazy.
None of it stopped Ms. Markle from finding her Prince Charming, and an adorable one at that. I think these two have a good chance. What can I say, I am a sucker for happily ever after. Besides, if her prince snores, she has a lot of spare rooms to sleep in.
You could say my sleep-deprivation, caused by my prince’s nocturnal congestion, has inspired my evil queen nature of late. The minute the wedding is over, I’m going to put my own regal plan into play. First, I will put on my grubby clothes, giving the illusion that I’m ready and willing to do manual labour. Outside. With the Carpenter. As his helper. In his domain. That will be enough to unsettle my spouse. Once I am sure I have his attention, I will walk to the centre of our backyard and stand there, silently, just looking around the circumference of the property, with a prolonged stare over the garden, the patio and the roof of the house. And then I will speak these exact words: “Can I make a suggestion?”
You don’t even need to know what the Carpenter looks like to know the exact way his face will fall when I utter that phrase. Think one part bewilderment, one part annoyance and two parts contemplating how to politely decline the offer of input – because three days is a long time to live with an unhappy evil queen.
He will try to mask it all by defending his plans. I say “his” because in our 18 years together, I have had no input into anything done in our yard. My job is simply to applaud whatever work is accomplished and not to question that which is not finished. I think we can all agree I am great at half of that. Pick your battles. Every queen knows that.
In this case, I know I have lost the war before I’ve even started the battle. But I will enjoy it just the same, because I know every time I come back outside to enjoy the sun, all I need to do is look a little too long anywhere in the yard and my sweet prince will panic.
Power is a strange thing. I may not have full reign of the land, but I do believe Queen Victoria herself would appreciate my cheeky humour. Eventually, the Carpenter will too, because I will appreciate whatever he gets done.
I may be a royal pain, but I am a very happy queen.