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Super woman

this is a gun that is too damn big!

She has been quite the ally who helped gay couples come out of the closet and be accepted in the 1990’s by inviting them to her royal balls and please bring their partners along if they so wished, like the politician Torben Lund who was outed against his will by another politician. Torben panicked but then he received an invitation asking if he’d like to attend her party with his boyfriend. That way she let the country, and especially the upper-class, know that there would be no homophobia on her watch. Torben and his boyfriend Claus were incredibly well received and it kicked off a small trend of public figures coming out at the royal balls, much to Queen Margrethe’s delight.

When Obama came into office he sent Rufus Gifford to be his ambassador in Denmark, along with Rufus’ boyfriend Stephen. They became very popular and beloved by the people, and to show how grateful they were for being so well received they decided to get married in Denmark. During their time here they had become good friends with Queen Margrethe who sent some of her royal guards to their wedding. Not to protect them, but to publicly show her support because she couldn’t attend herself.

Her time is coming to an end and she has started pushing her oldest child, crown prince Frederik, into the light more. She has clearly been raising him right because he too is an ally, so here’s to our Queen. You might not like the concept of royal families, but there’s no denying that she’s a good person.

I thought I told you guys not to ask about the flashlight story!

Nonetheless, I have received four asks within the last 12 hours and also several curious comments.

So, you guys win. Here comes the flashlight story.

I was an avid reader. I had more books than friends. I was also an avid mischief maker. Teachers would punish my mischief by making me go out into the playground and actually play with kids my age. Eugh! It was the worst punishment imaginable.

At home, my parents found otherwise creative punishments. I once was forbidden from eating butter for a week. Another time, I wasn’t allowed to watch the finale of my favourite show for a week. (I could watch any other show I wanted, just not that one.) I wasn’t allowed to listen to music. I had to go to my neighbour’s birthday party. Cruel and unusual punishments.

But, my parents’ absolute favourite punishment? The flashlights.

See, as an avid book reader, I would stay up extremely late binge reading a book. Once I started, I couldn’t put it down. My parents would come in and scold me for having my light on. How dare I stay up so late?

Then came the flashlights.

I would have my lights off and I would read my books with a flashlight underneath the covers, a la Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban opening style!

My parents knew, but they didn’t want to punish a kid for reading. It didn’t disturb them as long as the lights were off. They let it slide.

Until I caused mischief.

Their new cruel and unusual punishment would be to confiscate my flashlight. But I was clever. I kept finding new flashlights. They kept letting me use it until I caused more trouble. The cycle kept spinning until the flashlights were all gone.

My parents thought they were victorious. They thought there were no more flashlights in the house. They were all locked away.

What they didn’t realize is that the previous Christmas, they had got me a Hermione Granger light-up wand. You know, those wonderful wands that people would wave while saying, “Lumos!” and pretend like they just casted a magical spell. It was glorious.

I pretended to be beside myself, constantly complaining about how I no longer had any flashlights. My parents would look smug, thinking they’ve won. Little did they know.

The Prisoner of Azkaban opening scene had become a reality.

Every night I would whisper, “Lumos!” (I could not possibly turn on my wand light without the spell, what kind of fan do you take me for?) Behold, my final flashlight. The holy grail. A toy that my parents did not think of.

That light-up wand stayed with me for nearly a year. It was only one night when my dad thought taking the trash out at 2am would be a good idea that the gig was up. My source of light had been found out.

It had caused so much drama that my dad had woken up my mom by waving the wand in front of her face. The entire next day, they were stumped. How could they have let a little girl out-smart them with a nerdy toy?

I was not allowed to have a flashlight until my sixteenth birthday. 

I still have the wand somewhere. I found it in my mom’s closet while I was moving out and immediately packed it. It warms my heart that she kept it safe for all those years. She nearly had a heart attack when she saw it again when helping me unpack everything in my new flat.

The memory still haunts them. Every time I try to tell them to read Harry Potter, they bring up the wand. They will never forgive, never forget.

I’d like to think Remus Lupin would be proud of me. And while Lily Evans probably wouldn’t be too proud of my methods, I think she would appreciate the determination.

Kinda unorthodox, but no one is complaining because this is advanced English and the teacher usually goes kinda hard. So, y’know. Brief respite. We all sit and chat; one of the boys teasingly steals a girl’s balloon, but gives it back to her easily enough; it’s quiet and kind of a nice break. Then the teacher comes back, stops in the doorway, and just stares at us

After a long moment, she says, confused, “You didn’t pop the balloons.”

To which one of the guys about two rows over exclaims, “We’re allowed to pop them?” and immediately turns around and stabs his friend’s balloon with the pencil

There is a vicious revenge balloon-stabbing, and a few more people pop seatmates’ balloons or their own, and the whole time the teacher is just shaking her head. “I can’t believe you didn’t pop your balloons.”

Kids only go wild like that when they have been raised to believe that they are superior for their gender, race, class, and national origin and to defend their so-called superiority through violence.