The title of today’s post is taken from the last line of the poem by A.A. Milne entitled “If I Were King.” Given our locale, the lines, “If only I were King of France, I wouldn’t brush my hair for aunts” seem somewhat apt. Not that I have a lot of hair to brush, nor have any of my aunts ever seemed terribly concerned about its messiness level.
I thought about calling this post “King of Nothing,” a reference to the classic 70’s song by Seals & Crofts, given that expression is a more accurate representation of my particular kingdom. But the exclamation in the Milne poem is more to my liking.
I could have explained that we were invited today to the Boudeaus for a Galette des Rois and that Chloe got the fève, thus making her the queen. Frédérique presented her with the obligatory crown and insisted she put it on. I took three pictures of Chloe wearing the crown, none of which she felt were blog-worthy. Go figure. Instead, she snatched the camera from me and handed me the crown to wear, saying something like, “Let me take YOUR picture!”
I hope everything is made clear now.