I’m generally speaking a monarchist.

If you ask me for my reasons they will mostly be illogical, emotion-driven attempts at giving a sound explanations. That will come out something like “well you know, they do a lot for tourism, and… they get to wear crowns and pretty dresses and live in big castles!”

My love for all things royal and fancy is probably something to do with my parents dragging me around numerous castles, palaces and country mansions as a child, and then filling my brain with period stories of women flouncing around in long dresses dreaming of husbands and balls.

None of which I am complaining about. I am more likely to complain that I can only watch my period drama films when Rasmus is away.

Despite that I’ve not been ever that fascinated by the British monarchy. There was the brief excitement of going to the same university as Prince William, and I do very much like Duchy Originals buscuits. But the rest? Meh. They just seem to be constantly bickering.

Enter Danish husband and sudden discovery that Denmark also has a monarchy (yes, I did not know before – do you realise how many European countries still do?! 11! I thought the Brits were holding on to a dying tradition).

The Danish also have a queen, a little younger than ours but still a grey-haired grandmother. Dronning Margrethe II has two lovely sensible sons who both managed to marry absolute stunners: Crown Princess Mary from Tasmania and Princess Marie from France.

I mean, look at them! And we get Camilla as our future queen… :)

So I have found a royal family I can sentimental and mushy over again. Sort of like I did about ten minutes ago when Rasmus sent me a link to a Danish newspaper, with the headline: “Mary og Frederik venter tvillinger”. (tr: expecting twins). Eeek!

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