Apparently, there is a full time vacancy in the Royal Family for a gadabout couple, the present occupants of the role having given notice. You know, the job of man and woman who dress well, behave impeccably and say "Quite so" a lot. They are trotted out for garden openings - "The Westminster Peony Club would like to welcome the Duke and Duchess..." - given prominent seats at gala events of state and have their own box at Lord's, the birthplace of cricket. It seems safe enough, the IRA having been bought off some time ago.
We already have purebred dogs who consider themselves royalty. The cat... Try to put a bow in Gilda's hair and you may get most of the skin taken off your forearm. She may need some lessons.
We have friends there!! We could get lessons in not being such a...I dunno...a Yank!
Meeting prominent individuals, touring the world with adoring fans flocking ever amicably. Soirées to the countryside aboard well-bred, expensively trained steeds... Rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous while sipping only the finest vintages, the best seats in the house at the opera and symphony. Oh my God, the London Symphony!
There is the complication of not being born into the Royal Family, but my Dad's mom was English (from London, I think) and I was rooting for England all along during the ODI Cricket World Cup last year. There's gotta be some kind of form I'd need to sign, or some waiver I would have to get from the Queen.Seriously. Keep my mouth shut while Pat and I trot to and fro, drinking tea, eating crumpets and hobnob with a lot of stuffy people?
Quite so.
Hysterical!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Cuz!
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