The nieces behaviour had evolved into the latest family crisis, as her parents had so thoroughly spoiled her that she genuinely believed herself to be royaltyand diplomatically treated everyone around her as if they were her loyal palace staff. Matters had only got worse with the approach of her first day at school, yet her crowning academic achievement thus far remained her mastery of finger-counting.
The trouble began practically at her birth, with every relative feeling an unspoken duty to play nursemaid in her upbringing. Her grandmother even moved into her sons already-cramped London flat to lend a hand with the new baby. Alas, instead of any proper guidance, the adults simply leapt to grant her every silly request, thus teaching her that a well-timed wail or banshee screech would procure anythingfrom chocolate buttons to the TV remote.
By the time the little madam reached six months, shed become adept at manipulating the entire cast of her extended family. This led to chaos at home, with the needs of the other family members routinely trampled underfootusually by whichever play shoe the girl fancied at the moment. In a fit of despair (and perhaps hunting for a flat that didnt echo with Disney theme tunes), her father packed his bags and left. Not that this stopped the pamperinghe continued to indulge his daughter with frocks, cosmetics, shoes, and everything a tiny monarch could dream of, even post-divorce. Any attempts by other relativesor the poor nursery teachersto suggest she swallow a dose of reality were met with fierce resistance and many a domestic squabble.
Her entire childhood education had been so steeped in this princess mentality that academic achievement was, understandably, quite low on her list of priorities. Now, with Reception looming at the local primary, she could barely count past ten without the aid of her digits, and showed no inkling of even the faintest basics known by her peers. Her parents stuck loyally to their philosophy of let the child make her own choices, carried to such an extreme that it often looked suspiciously like do whatever you fancy, darling, as long as you dont make a mess in the lounge. Her soon-to-be teacher, on the other hand, held the, frankly radical, belief that a child should possess at least a modicum of humilityand a passing familiarity with polite conversation.
Worn thin by her behaviour and distinct lack of manners, the caregivers reached the conclusion that, for their own sanity, they ought to keep their distance from her highness as much as possible. They all quietly agreed: her parents ought to step up, sprinkle in a little discipline, and teach her a few basic values about life before her classmates voted her Most Likely to Shout for the Butler at playtime.
