|The Royal Christmas Tree|
The unexpected invitation had silver hearts and a red crayon crown, and it read, “Dear Cynthya your invited to a ball to night. See you there. P.S. Pleace ware your best.” The Princess and Prince were hosting the event, and they were busy all afternoon establishing the itinerary.
The ball happened after dinner, and everyone put on clothes to fit the occasion. The Prince dressed as a royal knight, but since he is Prince of Montana, he wore jeans. The Princess exchanged her tiara and sparkly daytime dress for a tiara and an even more sparkly dress.
I wore the dress my fashion consultant/Princess had picked out for me, and a lovely shawl a friend made. My husband came out in dress clothes, a wool coat, and a fedora. Sharp.
When we arrived at the door of the ballroom, the Princess had an expression that was equal parts joy and gratitude. After seeing that face, I suspect that’s how angels look. The Prince escorted us in front of the couch to a spot between the stray socks and the front door. The ballroom was gloriously lit by the light of the Christmas tree. With a flourish he handed my husband a football and proclaimed, “Let me present the royal ball.” Who knew how sophisticated royal humor could be?
The Prince also orchestrated the music: O Christmas Tree, as sung and performed by the melodious Veggie Tales. My first dance was with the Princess, who did a lovely job waltzing. My husband danced with the Prince, who can make almost any activity bouncier. I got to dance with him during the next song, which was performed by the Princess’ music box. And let’s face it, dancing with the Prince is every girl’s dream.
When the rest of the dances were over, the curtsies were done, and everyone was home again in their jammies, we all agreed it was the very best royal ball we had ever attended. And it will probably remain so for the rest of my life.