Riddonkulous

In France I reign, and once my son went to war, I developed tastes for his kin. Sleeping at the butler's is where I get them; closing their eyes sure sounds dope. Sauce Robert is what I want; dip a leg in and bite with a crunch. Guess the butler wants to give me a fright: why is the leg so hairy? Was the mustard bad, or is he daring? It doesn't make sense, but here I am, with three little humans and nothing to eat.