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I was 5 years old and playing Perrault's fairy tale " Donkey Skin" with a worn-out on my shoulders, a crooked diadem and my dance card hanging on my wrist, riding a tricycle my magical horse. "A princess on tricycle, how ridiculous!" ironized my cousin as I was in his way."Stupid boy, can't you see she's a queen?!" retorted my grand-mother. Then repeatedly bowing, letting me ride by, he shouted: "Queen Christine!" From that day on, I was enthroned among the great of this world and my sobriquet was born.