Examining the life of a royal birth person accustomed to all the posh stuff and cermonial nonsense having none of that a forced to get a “real job” and basically economically completely stripped of all privelege?
Like Prince Charmint in Shrek 2 at the theater
Fwiw, your little friends may have experienced it differently from how you felt about it.
My kids grew up sharing a room in a small, not-fancy apartment. They had a friend who lived in a BelAir mansion. That friend spent the night, and as she went back to her mom she exclaimed, “Mommy, the Mouselemming family lives in a HOTEL! Just like Eloise! With an elevator!”
I had a mom who made everything from scratch, and my friends would love to come over and have bread hot from the oven, with butter and homemade strawberry jam. But at school I wished my PBJs would be on squashy paper-white bread with grape jelly and Jif, like theirs.
Grass is always greener eh? I guess it didnt help that my stepparent adored my friend and wanted to seem cool to them, but didnt give a shit about that once the friend returned to what I saw as their blessed elysium for the elect home vs my horrible shit one