Perfect Family Harmony

“Just like Queen Poppy.”

Boom. Instant coronation. No voting, no ceremony. Just a three-year-old pointing at my newly PINK hair like, “You’re in charge now.” I didn’t fight it. Why would I? The crown fits.

Sis dubbed herself Branch: moody, dramatic, emotionally unstable with a crown she keeps misplacing. And Bubs? Assigned the role of Tiny Diamond without consent, just vibing in the background like a one-man hype crew with no clue what he signed up for. That was a year ago.

Trolls Band Together isn’t just background noise. It’s our full-time theme music. We know every lyric, every beat drop, every moment of drama. Then Sis found NSYNC. Now we’re riding this nostalgic boy band high like it’s 2001, and honestly? I’ve never felt more seen.

But the bath-time concert? That’s when I knew I was in deep. I started letting her shower on her own. Safe setup, door cracked, grown-up on standby. I turned on the soundtrack through a shower speaker, and this girl turned that tub into an arena.

I watched her (because of safety, duh) behind those glass doors, giving it everything. Singing, dancing, acting out the entire movie plot with shampoo as a prop. At one point, she placed her palms on the glass, looked me dead in the eye, and screamed:

“I’M SHAKING MY LITTLE BLUE TROLL BUTT!!”

Wonder where she learned to twerk... wink.

At this point, we’ve gone so far beyond obsession, it’s almost embarrassing. Except we have zero shame. This isn’t just a movie soundtrack anymore. It’s a lifestyle. A movement. A multi-generational tribute act.

Sis performs the entire movie on command like she’s running a one-girl stage show. I’m sweating through yet another dance session, hairbrush mic in hand, begging the universe for a slow ballad so I can breathe.

Enter Tiny Diamond… While Branch is busy producing full-scale Trolls concerts, Tiny Diamond has developed his own traditions. Most notably: shower sauce.

What started as a little extra comfort when he was sick somehow became a non-negotiable part of the shower experience. Applesauce is now considered essential bathroom equipment. One day he realized he’d forgotten it and absolutely panicked. “MY SAUCE!!” Before I could react, he was gone.

Bare booty. Full speed. No hesitation. He sprinted into the kitchen, flung open the snack drawer, grabbed a sauce in each hand, and came charging back toward the bathroom screaming: “GOT MY SHOWER SAUCE, AUNTIE KATE!”

Different Troll. Same commitment to the bit. We thought we had reached peak Trolls. We were wrong. Because then came John Dory. AKA Uncle Mocha. AKA My Husband.

Nothing fancy, just a little family dinner. The air smelled like appetizers and passive-aggressive compliments. But Branch? She was laser focused. Every thirty minutes, all day, like clockwork: “Is John Dory coming?” Yes, Branch. He’s coming. After dinner.

Then came the glam. Full beat. Hair curled. Fanciest plastic jewels chosen like she was walking the carpet at the Trolls Met Gala. The final touch? “We has to get fancy for John Dory.” And I’m telling you, this girl meant it.

Then the timeline shifted. One family showed up an hour early. John Dory got held up at work and ran an hour late. That’s two full hours of Branch asking every three to five minutes: “IS JOHN DORY COMING?” We could’ve set a metronome to it. I started hearing it in my soul.

When he finally pulled up, she launched into the arms of her muse, shrieking with joy. She looked like someone who just found water in the desert. Except instead of hydration, it was a thirty-something man with jokes in his pocket and a calm aura. She worshipped the ground he walked on. But I mean, same.

Later that evening we were all running around outside when she screamed. I panicked. Did a wasp fly in her eye? Is there blood? Nope. She thought John Dory left without saying goodbye. She was clutching her hair like she was three seconds from starring in a Lifetime movie. Seriously... you can’t make this stuff up.

Turns out he was in the bathroom. But to her? That was emotional abandonment. Eventually John Dory bought her a little blanket with “his face” on it. She made us lay it out flat. No wrinkles.

Later at nap time, she’d spread it on the floor and sprawl across it like a starfish in love.

Her crush will fade eventually. At least I assume it will. For now, Queen Poppy is still running the kingdom. Branch is still waiting for John Dory. Tiny Diamond is still demanding shower sauce.

This was and continues to be... The Trolls Cinematic Universe.