I always look forward to the day when time is so bashful to give me a turbulent schedule. It is during this moment when I am crowned the king (dandararaaannnnn!) of our sala, who is being attended to by my little sister and her yaya, who, by then, are metamorphosed into my loyal and indefatigable minions! The king’s throne, the couch in front of the television, is surrounded with toys and gadgets, which he turns to whenever ennui attacks him, and lots of food and chocolate, which his minions devotedly cater.
The beloved king zestfully enjoys commanding his little minion to open the television, and the older minion to prepare ‘offerings’ for him. The monarch is innately selfish and really domineering, but undoubtedly wise. His facade obliterates cruelty and poses sympathy. He permits his little minion to sit beside and eat with him. He also allows the older minion to taste and eat the food she prepares for him.
The King: This is actually my strategy for them not to launch mutiny against me!
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