THE KING: HATES WHEN THE PRINCESSES VISIT HIS CASTLE
My mom and sisters are coming to visit. I swear this holiday was created to torture the poor saps like me. "Why aren't you coming home? Does this mean we get to visit you out there? Oh this means I get to do my City shopping! Oh Lordy, Scotty, I've missed you, but oh my shopping! Won't you let me trim your hair when we visit?" And that's only my mother. My sisters are a hundred times worse. Princesses, all four of them. They are coming in a week, and I'm meant to entertain.
I've tried determining at least five pros to this scenario and the only pro I can come up with is "At least my place will finally be clean," but if I see one bag of Victoria's Secret in my manly cave, I am kicking them out. This is going to be the longest week on earth.