Sunday, May 1, 2011

Runaway Imagination

I’m laughing at myself. All day long, I’ve been imagining William and Kate. Thinking about how sweet, to live in a farmhouse, how fun to wake up in the country to the sound of nothing but nature, how wonderful to be newly married. Okay, I know they’ve been living together for a long time (must be hard to live in the same house and not have sex.) But it makes me remember the fun part of being together in the beginning. Without children. I love my children, but it isn’t the same. First of all, I wear a mouthguard, thick man socks and flannel pajamas to bed now. I don’t imagine Kate wears a mouthguard and flannel pjs, and I certainly can’t picture her wearing man socks to bed. At the very least, her flannel pjs don’t look like mine. I have one pair that has a safety pin holding the shirt together. Well, it would, if I hadn’t taken the safety pin out to use it somewhere else and now it’s lost. So, the shirt has nothing but a couple of threadbare buttons to keep it closed. And it’s 2 sizes too large for me. Talk about sexy. I won’t post a picture because I don’t want your husbands getting all interested in my hot flannel night garb. But I can tell you where to get your own, if you want to tone down the spice in your marriage. Land’s End, my friend, Land’s End. Tell Minnesota Grandma ‘hi’ for me when you call.

Not only have I been thinking about how fun it must be for Balding William and Amazing Kate right now, but I thought about what it would have been like for them to partake in our Sunday Night dinner.

First of all, every single child in my house had the Loud Giggles. The three girls were out-pacing each other in the “no, listen to this!” dinner conversation. The baby refused to sit in his chair, and instead sat on the table. He burped, and when the girls laughed, he practiced burping again. Burp, laugh, burp, laugh... It’s upscale behavior like this that made me start giggling as I pictured the looks-like-a-queen Kate and reserved William sitting with us.

Then, our meal wasn’t exactly British fare. In fact, we had an homage to our ancestors. Bacon, johnnycakes served with maple syrup and strawberry/rhubarb sauce, root beer and strawberry-rhubarb pie for dessert. Yummy, but I’m picturing the royal couple sitting at our table, trying to be polite as they nibble fried cornmeal and listen to the entertainment.

But I’m such a little girl inside, still. I love stories of princesses and weddings and first-blush romance. I can’t wait for the Duke and Duchess to have babies, first of all, because I like to encourage boob sag wherever possible. Second of all, because I’m happy for them, and I want all the joy I can think of to be theirs. Nothing makes a better meal than 4 kids who make a game out of squishing the food between their teeth so their siblings can say, “That’s disgusting! Watch this.”

1 comment:

Irish Cream said...

Oooo, I can hardly wait to come and add my giggling girls to the melee and we can just sit back and laugh until our bellies are full of good nourishment (laughter!)

Although, the baby on the table burping might be too new a novelty for my daughters to do anything but stare in amazement and wonder what this strange specimen is!