What Are The Customs Of A Crown Family?

Let’s be honest: we all have that one friend whose family has a weird rule, like no shoes on the carpet or an annual triathlon they’re all forced to enter. Now imagine that friend is a literal prince or princess. A crown family’s customs are basically your weird family rules, but with more tiaras and state banquets. It’s like your Thanksgiving dinner got upgraded with a live orchestra and someone yelled, “No elbows on the table, your Majesty!”

The Breakfast of Champions (Literally)

You might grab a granola bar on your way out the door. A crown family? They sit down for a formal breakfast that looks like a mini summit meeting. The silverware has more pieces than a car engine, and there’s a specific order for toasting the bread. It’s like they’re preparing for a board meeting while eating their eggs, except the board members are also your grandparents.

I picture a morning where a royal kid spills their orange juice, and instead of a parent yelling “Watch out!”, a courtier immediately calculates the fabric damage and a footman brings a silk napkin. “The juice has been logged, Your Highness. Crisis averted.” Meanwhile, my coffee spills and I just dab it with a sock.

The Art of the Wave (It’s a Sport)

When you wave hello, you probably just flap your hand like a goose. A royal wave is a precise, slow rotation of the wrist, like you’re trying to unscrew a jar from twenty feet away. It’s a skill they practice. Imagine being a kid and your dad says, “No, no, you’re waving too fast. You look frantic. Do the ‘gentle windshield wiper’ motion.” You’d miss recess for wave practice.

And there’s a secret hierarchy to greeting. You don’t just hug the King. You curtsy, bow, or, in some cases, back away slowly so you don’t accidentally show him your backside. It’s the opposite of a casual “sup, dude?”. It’s more like, “I formally acknowledge your existence from three meters away, Sir.”

African royal family portrait with crowns, gold jewelry, and

The Wardrobe Rules: No Flip-Flops, Ever

Your closet has a “maybe” pile for jeans that are slightly ripped. A royal’s closet is a museum with dress codes for different hours of the day. There’s a morning outfit, a lunch outfit, and an evening tiara outfit. You can’t just throw on a hoodie if you’re feeling lazy. If you’re a crown prince, “lazy” means wearing a jacket without a tie.

Once, I wore sweatpants to the grocery store. A royal would need a state decree to do that. And hats? Hats are for outerwear, not indoor wear. My grandma said that too, but she meant at church, not at a state dinner. It’s basically your grandmother’s etiquette handbook, but it’s the law.

Dinner is a Three-Act Play

A crown family dinner isn’t just eating. It’s a performance with multiple courses. You start with something tiny (amuse-bouche), then soup, then fish, then meat, then cheese, then dessert. It’s like a marathon for your fork. By course three, you’re hoping the King doesn’t ask you a question because your mouth is full of duck.

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The worst part? You can’t leave the table until the monarch leaves. So if Grandma the Queen loves to talk about her corgis for two hours, you’re stuck. Your bladder is screaming, but you have to smile. It’s the ultimate “we’re not leaving until Dad finishes his story” moment, multiplied by a billion. I’ve lived that nightmare at a regular family barbecue.

The Heir’s Homework: Learning to Be Boring

Think about your first job. You probably had to learn how to make copies. A royal heir has to learn how to be interesting for exactly two minutes to a veteran, a farmer, and a diplomat. They are trained to ask the same questions: “How long have you been doing this?” and “That’s wonderful.” It’s a very specific charm school. They learn to smile so hard their face hurts.

My friend’s kid has to learn piano. A royal kid has to learn three languages, how to ride a horse, and how to wave for an hour without yawning. It’s like they’re preparing for a role in a video game where the only cheat code is “polite endurance.” You can’t just say “I don’t feel like it today.” The crown doesn’t care about your feelings.

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The Real Superstitions (Don’t Step on the Cracks)

We all have little rituals. Maybe you knock on wood. Crown families have ancient traditions that sound like crazy family lore. Some royal families don’t wear new shoes to a wedding. Others keep a specific blessing coin in a pocket. It’s like your mom’s obsession with not walking under ladders, but it’s been going on since the 1600s.

There’s also the thing about the heir’s hair, or the christening gown that must be used for every baby. It’s essentially a family heirloom that smells like mothballs and history. You have a drawer of old phone chargers. They have a drawer of ancestral robes. We are not the same, but we both have clutter.

So next time you’re arguing about who does the dishes, remember: a crown prince probably has to argue about who gets to hold the royal spoon. Their customs are your life, just with more silk and less sleeping in. And honestly? I’d take my sweatpants and a microwave dinner over a seven-course meal where I can’t belch any day. Long live the comfy couch!