My Tiara

I have a tiara. 

Let it sink in. 

I was in a silly mood when I bought it. It’s cheaply made and entirely frivolous. But I have a tiara. 

There was a whole thought process behind it, but I have a tiara. I was never on any of the royal courts in high school. It wasn’t my thing. Leadership Council, yes. Prom Princess, no. But I have a tiara.

The thought was about saddling up and paying bills. If I wear it when balancing my checkbook and paying bills, I can be the Queen that is handling the business of her Kingdom … Queendom. I’m doing my duties and not getting bent over and robbed at the same time. 

This morning Kid3 was having a melt down. He had one when he went to bed last night and had one in the morning. I stepped outside to discover what happened to half a dozen eggs that disappeared and realized the kids were revolting. I put on that tiara and the extra dose of patience I needed fell softly around my shoulders. 

Queens don’t lose their shit. 

I couldn’t lose my shit. 

I caught my reflection in a mirror and started giggling. My son started giggling. There were hugs and tickles and silly laughter. And there’s a tiara. 

Best $10 I’ve spent this week. 

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