National Take to the Hills Day
I’ve decided to run away. I don't have any choice, now that Mr. and Mrs. Klapper have become totally unbearable. No blue hair, no navel ring, no sleepovers on school nights, no purple walls, no HBO, no Girl Goddess Jamboree at Fiona Feingold’s house. The Klappers are acting like parents, not subjects, and I’ve had it with them.
I will run away to Grandma Iris’s and transform her house into my Castle-Away-from-Home. If Lotus Nation is a state of mind (which is what Mrs. Sheridan told Godiva, and I’m sure she meant it in a very positive way) then any place I go my Sovereignty will come with me.
I feel 99.9% certain that Grandma Iris will take me in. But that one little tenth of a percentage point (or is it 1/100th?) is what’s keeping me from calling her in advance and telling her to expect a Royal Visitation. I think if I just show up on her doorstep it will be more effective. That’s what they call “the element of surprise.”
The fact that I am a monarch on the run should count for something, sympathy-wise. Plus, Grandma Iris is my Jewish grandmother. I’m sure she knows the story of Anne Frank. Though I won’t be living in her attic. Grandma Iris has a nice guest room, with its own TV, and HBO. I expect to be quite happy there until Mr. and Mrs. Klapper come to their senses.
I decided not to pack a suitcase. It is undignified for me, as the Queen of All, to schlep luggage around town. Everything I need is in my backpack, except for my diary which, naturally, is in my lap. But now I will pack her (you) away — temporarily — to make a safe journey across the ocean.
Okay, I'm only going eight streets away. Still, it’s like another universe over there. But as soon as I walk through Grandma Iris’s door I will establish Lotus Nation in Exile.
I hope Becky and Avis and Godiva can come over tonight and help me map out my bloody revenge against the Klappers and Mr. Harold P. Loomis and Fiona Feingold, who stole my idea for Girl Goddess Jamboree (I didn’t want to go to her stupid party anyway) and Kenny Bergermeister, who is not the gentleman I thought he was.
I know what I know and some day everything will be revealed.
The end (for now).