Sunday afternoon, May 26 at 1:06 pm, Lillian May Queen, destined to become future Warlord and Ultimate Administrative Power of the Seven Galaxies, was born. Nurses at Modesto's Memorial Hospital were unaware of this great privilege, commenting for the most part only that "she's such a cute baby" and "goodness, she sure does eat a lot!" In many cases, the last comment was directed toward both mother and child.
Labor became imminent Sunday morning at 6:30 am. After two hours of mild contractions, mother-to-be Alexandra Queen was showering in preparation for what she anticipated as being a long day of timing her contractions and practicing her Lamaze breathing. Throughout the prior nine months, young Lillian May had been an extremely active baby, presenting herself in the proper "head down" position at every pre-natal checkup. Sunday morning however found the young gymnast doing flips, and precisely as Mrs. Queen turned off the shower and reached for a towel, young Miss Queen kicked mid-back flip, rupturing the amniotic sac and draining her gymnasium. Although Mrs. Queen was initially 
pleased that her water was broken in such a convenient location, she was much less pleased several hours later in the hospital when she learned that Miss Queen was stuck butt first, without enough amniotic fluid left in her trampoline to be swiveled into proper birthing position. A leisurely, non-emergency cesarean procedure was planned for 8:30 am, then pushed back to 12:30 pm when concerned father and stool pigeon John Queen revealed that on the way to the hospital, he was forced by Mrs. Queen to stop at McDonald's against his best instincts and procure her a breakfast sandwich. Lillian got the brunt of the blame and was officially grounded until surgery.
The operation went without a hitch and young Miss Queen was delivered at 1:06 in the afternoon. She was able to "room in" with her mother almost immediately and proceeded to impress the postpartum staff with her voracious appetite and vigor. Mrs. Queen was up stumping about that evening, and pestering staff for solid food and a shower. Like mother, like daughter in the minds of the nurses.
By Monday afternoon, Lillian was attempting to set records for constant feeding, and the freshly showered Mrs. Queen was pleasantly surprised when the staff anticipated the need even before the patient thought of it and ordered her two lunches worth of solid food. Infant and mother were released in excellent health into the culinary custody of the father Tuesday afternoon.
The grandmother and mother of the newborn anticipate a life of responsibility-free luxury in the not too distant future, when technological advances and the forces of destiny will allow "TigerLilly" to rise to ascendancy as Warlord and Supreme Administrative Power of this galaxy and the six nearest inhabited others. Lillian's father remains skeptical, but had planned to instruct her in the necessary skills as a matter of course anyway. Miss Queen is already embarking on this quest, starting with conquering the "hands", two strange appendages that flail about aggravatingly, get in the way of feeding, and occasionally cause uprisings in the form of smacking the future warlord in her own face. Having been counseled that these hands are within her domain of rightful authority, and in fact belong to her, she is currently attempting to subdue and assimilate them. Rumor has it that the "legs" are next in line of conquest. From there, the world and the seven galaxies beyond are just a matter of time.
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