Living With The Royals
I’m not even sure just how long we ended up staying with her. If I had to guess, I would probably say about 6 months. She had a lot of nice things in her house but we weren’t allowed to touch anything. There were even rooms we couldn’t step foot in. While I do appreciate and value certain material things, I just wondered why one would spend so much money on things nobody could enjoy. She would say that they were just for looks. Huh?? As a youngster, I didn’t understand that concept. Anyway, it was pretty tough living there. Nothing was mine but the few clothes in my possession. Everything was on a strict schedule. I swear, if they could, they would have had us schedule our potty times. Our showers were timed and we couldn’t use hot, hot water. If the mirror fogged up, that meant the water was too hot and that meant some type of punishment. Do you know how hard it was to try and take a shower in a certain amount of time while excessively looking at the mirror to make sure it wasn’t foggy as you tried to get completely cleaned. Yes, completely cleaned, there were inspections. Behind the ears, hands and feet, fingers and toe nails, neck and ankles. It was super awkward. I remember one shower, I had the water warm (or so I thought) and it was so relaxing I was just in a daze. BANG, BANG!!!! Went the door, it snapped me out of my daze and I looked at the mirror, oh my gosh, it was totally fogged up. I panicked. I grabbed a ton of toilet paper and wiped the mirror as best as I could. I then flushed the big wad of toilet paper down the toilet only to see it come back up. Oh no, I plugged up the toilet. Now I’m terrified, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m standing there in my towel, mortified to come out because now I’m looking at the mirror and you can see every stroke from where I tried to wipe it clean, now that it was starting to dry. It was a mess.