Day 1 – Today, We Are English
At 6:30am, as we lay in bed, the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world and I overheard the boys say how excited they were about the day. They were going to Legoland!!!
3 exclamation points in their voices. Maybe 4.
So we got up.
I needed to head out to grab supplies since we had to depack so much, so I asked at the hotel desk where was the best place to resupply? Walgreens, they suggested. They gave me directions. Take a left at the bottom of the driveway. Drive along Taylor road or street or highway and it’ll turn into Rosencrantz, (not Guildenstern) and on the right would be a Walgreens.
Ok, easy enough, but I had that deep, dark fear I’d get lost.
Long story short, I didn’t get lost, but nor did I ever find that Walgreens. But this is the land of malls and I found a grocery store that was open. At 7am! I bought all the things we’d left behind and some pepto to counter balance the wasabi nuts and tortilla soup someone ate last night. Then I headed back.
Everyone was up and we hit our first challenge of the day: 1 bathroom. 4 people. Hard to all brush our teeth, have showers, floss, blow dry our hair (or gel it), put on deo, sunscreen, makeup… in such a tiny space.
We had to do it one at a time. But the boys were so excited to go, they were ready in record time, so for a laugh, while the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world got ready, the boys and I decided to be English.
Upper class English at that.
Just because we could.
My apologies to any of my English friends for what followed.
The oldest one was the first to respond, and respond correctly. “Jolly good.”
Me: “Today, we shall speak in English accents, which is in fact, an accent not too dissimilar from how we now speak, and we shall use ten words when, in truth and without a doubt, only one word is utterly and completely necessary.”
“Jolly good, sir,” pipped the oldest.
“Jolly, jolly, jolly, jolly good,” said the youngest, using, as was required, far more words than necessary.
We straightened our backs and I asked, “So, young chaps, how were the crumpets you feasted upon this morning?”
The oldest: “The crumpets were the finest crumpets, sir.” Oh, I sure loved the ‘sir’ addition to their speech.
The youngest: “What? What’s crumpets… I mean, fine sir.”
“Excellent, most excellent,” I said. “Well then, I think we shall put our hands behind our backs and stand even straighter and think lofty thoughts about our queen.” Where upon I began to sing God Save the Queen.
They hummed along, which was, and indeed remains, a surprise that they would not know the song. Then, after I had finished, I added, “And when mommy comes out, she shall inspect us and ensure that we are presentable enough for the public.”
The oldest: “And if he fail the inspection, mommmy will spank our bottoms.” Though how he knew about bottom spanking, I have no idea.
We all laughed.
“Just so,” I said. “Well played.”
The English are polite, I told them. The English do talk about farting all the time or run around shouting at their brother to stop licking them in they eye. Nor do they eat gargle milk at the table. Nor do they ever ask, ‘are we there, yet.” NEVER.
More importantly, the English are always nice to their mommies.
So we would be English today?
The more we spoke, the more ideas we came up with of what if meant to be English, the more we laughed.
When the Prettiest-girl-in-the-world came out, she must have wondered why we were lined up against the wall all giggling.
It was good to be English.
I hoped it was a sign of how the day would play out.