Eating Like Kings, Living Like a Queen

You know what's cool? Not only am I completely at ease being labeled an undomestic goddess, but my guys are, too.

I had to run a few errands in town after we all got home. When hubby asked if I was going to bring supper home, I said, "Sure, what do you want?" Instead of giving me a list of ingredients for some elaborate meal (and it doesn't take much for me to consider it elaborate), he said, "How about a 12-piece meal from KFC?"

I can do handle that. (I love that man!)

I'm not a fan of greasy fast food, but when I bring home KFC extra crispy, Carter and Daddy say they're "eating like kings." That's a direct quote. A reporter doesn't lie.

So I guess if they're eating like kings and the cat is a princess, then I must be the queen to fit into this royal family.

Does this mean I have to admit I'm spoiled some days? OK, most days? 'Cuz I am. I have a husband and son who love me, a job I enjoy, a hot tub at my stress-relieving disposal and, any minute now, the Schwan's man will be here.

Who wouldn't want to be queen for a day? (Or more...)