Chapter Nine

67 4 7
                                    

Wednesday, December 25 - CHRISTMAS

Guess what? I got a permission to get out of bed!

It is Christmaaaaaaaaas!

Wednesday, December 25

Well, maybe it really is Christmas but my ankle is still black.

Wednesday, December 25

Yeah, my Christmas spirit passed away before fully blossoming.

Vigo just informed me that my bed rest is over. I am back to my royal schedule. Meaning, after opening presents I have to ...

Wait – what will I wear? I mean, I cannot show my black ankle in public!

Hohoho! There is Santa after all! No way Grandmere will let public see my black ankle!

Wait – unless they put me in boots.

She really is a Grinch, isn't she?

Wednesday, December 25

Dear Santa, if you really exist, please make sure my family will go back to being inattentive tomorrow morning. If I have to choose between being left alone / feeling sorry for myself and being with Grandmere 24/7, I prefer the self-pity, no matter how depressed Dr Knutz would find me to be.

I mean, come on, what kind of grandmother screams at her granddaughter for having a pimple on her chin? And then proceeds with threats of firing royal hairstylist because the curls (question – why would anyone need curls on Christmas morning?) she has make her look like a poulet (Grandmere needs to learn some new vocabulary ASAP! Being called a whore doesn't hurt me one bit anymore)?

You'd think my Dad would be offended if anyone, even his own mother, called me, his only DAUGHTER a whore, but, no, he just sat stoically with a coffee mug in his hands.

I am so running away to the wedding tomorrow. Maybe it will make Dad realize that we have problems in our family.

Grandmere was truly in her element during breakfast, which was a shame because Pierre made these really delicious pancakes in a shape of Santa (yes! Pancakes for breakfast! At least our chef has some Christmas spirit in him!). She informed René that the shirt he was wearing was too small for him and that the enhanced muscles he was trying to pull off made him look like a steroid-junkie/mafia wannabe.

Well, I have to admit, she was kind of right.

Tante Jean Marie just arrived. I guess it is time to open the presents.

Yaaaaaaay. Maybe somebody will remember and get me the snowball with Mia written in! It is not like I didn't tell anyone that I want it!

No, really, how many real-fur bags will I get this time?

Wednesday, December 25

**Mia's List of Received Christmas Gifts**

1. Mum and Mr G got me cat slippers. They are super soft, warm and comfortable and a really thoughtful gift since I love cats and they are even orange but ... it just reminded me that my own cat hates me. I think Christmas presents are supposed to make you happy and not depressed but ... they meant well.

2. Tante Jean Marie got me ... drum roll ... you guessed right, another fur bag, beige this time. I am too afraid to think of which animal had to die just so that Tante Jean Marie got to think that she had once again found a perfect gift for me. Is she senile? She must be, how could she have forgotten that a) she got me pretty much the same thing last year and b) I didn't like it last year. No, not 'like', I so totally hated it that I had an hour-long speech (ok .... Screaming session ...) why the gift was wrong in every single way something can be wrong. Maybe the sight of a princess being such a spoilt, ungrateful brat was so shocking for Tante Jean Marie that she just deleted the whole incident out of her memory? Well, this year at least one good thing came out of it – I didn't freak out. I just sighed, forced a smile and said thank you (oh, and I wondered who I should give this bag to.). Hooray, apparently I am maturing!

The Christmas Princess (Princess Diaries Fanfic)Where stories live. Discover now