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On Knighthood Before the Age of Majority

July 14, 2010

Look at the intensity on my face, the white-knuckled clasp of my hands as this "merciful and benevolent" queen bestows upon me what became the bane of my childhood.

To confer the order of knighthood upon a child is cruel and unusual. It is outright unreasonable to expect a pre-pubescent child to successfully shoulder the burdens of knighthood without lasting psychological damage. You know, what with the code-of-chivalry and national defense requirements. I know this tale all too well….because, yes….I was a Child Knight.

It was the summer of 1990, or maybe 1991 – I don’t know for sure because the trauma of what took place has rendered my memories foggy and dreamlike (*cue fife-players*).

I awoke the morning of my knighting ceremony alive with joy and skipped with glee about the hearth, kissing my family members, one-by-one, atop their darling heads. Like a scene out of Snow White, I danced off into the friggin woods – to commune with nature in preparation for my transformation later that day. I spent hours painstakingly gathering and placing flowers in my hair – to disguise the slightly-grown-out bowl cut of which I was so ashamed. Thusly adorned, I joined hands with my loving parents and set off to become a knight.

*More fife music as we make our way to the knighting grounds…….enter queen with a fdlrrrrrring! of the harp*

As I knelt before her, the queen cleared her throat to speak…

At the sight of my floral headpiece the queen jibed, “Oh, look, she’s raided the forest”, drawing an ignorant chuckle from the toothless and filthy crowd of peons.

“Lay off, bitch – I’m eight and I thought a crown of flowers would please Her Majesty”, thinks I all up in my head.

The queen’s insidious allusions to thievery and the guffaws of the masses pelted my soul like pellets of ice. Whyfore such humiliation? Wherefore art thou, Mommy?

Just as the queen’s japes and emotional-blows to the emotional-solar-plexus were about to transform me from a docile 8-year-old into a slobbering, galloping madwoman I felt the cold touch of steel on one shoulder…and then the other. The deed was done and I had indeed become a Child Knight.

What I had looked forward to all morning quickly became a nightmare for the most of the afternoon.

All the aforementioned aside, there is a small part of me that’s like, “No big whoop”, because I did become a queen later the same day.  See photo below, taken a mere lunchtime after my knighthood ceremony.

Photo taken minutes after my coronation. I am pictured here with the dowager queen (at left, with skull of nemesis).

6 Comments leave one →
  1. Currey Dorris permalink
    July 14, 2010 10:17 am

    So I’ve failed to address you by your title all these years? Now I feel like an ass.

    • July 14, 2010 10:44 am

      Well, modesty is definitely in that code of chivalry somewhere. As a good and humble knight, I have never pointed out this egregious error…until now. ‘Spects you’ll be sleeping with one eye open tonight. (*sword sounds*)

      • Currey Dorris permalink
        July 14, 2010 11:24 am

        Sir Maiden Voyage, I humbly ask for forgiveness, especially since with this warm weather my chain mail blanket chafes unforgivably.

        • July 14, 2010 3:00 pm

          The combined appeal of your humility and my gentlemanly pity for chafe-ed friends soothes my anger and lust for vengeance. Sleep tight.

  2. Desmond permalink
    July 15, 2010 5:14 pm

    No time for lengthy diatribes, but this has been executed to utmost perfection. I’ve been waiting for you to throw this one up, and it was indeed worth the wait. P.S. the dowager queen seems to have grown a bit more troll-like in recent years.

  3. Tina Watt permalink
    July 28, 2010 8:39 am

    Seriously, I don’t get any credit for the flower crown?

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