It’s my parents’ Fifty-SECOND wedding anniversary today! And because I love my parents
and I’m the middle child and therefore am endlessly in some sort of competition-in-my-head to attain “favorite child” status which will never happen because I’m the middle child and therefore exempt from the title despite my best efforts, I decided to have a gift delivered to them on their special occasion.
‘Cept they’re in Scotland right now, which adds a unique twist to the gift-giving effort and also shows that I am completely committed to winning this competition, even if it IS only in my head.
Now it just so happens that there are many, many options for giving a gift across the pond. And something called a “hamper” seems to be a key component to all of this. But the word alone makes me think that whatever the gift is, it will most likely come nestled in a bunch of dirty laundry. Which is an awful possibility. So no. No on the hampers.
Although there was that one thrilling Hamper Experience where I got all the way to the “Please Deliver To:” phase online. In the U.S., the “title” options would have been your standard: Mr. and Mrs. But in the U.K. the title options were actual…TITLES: Baroness, Commander, Lord and Lady, Reverend, DAME!!! <–While that particular title sounds like a misogynistic Frank Sinatra song, it makes you want to purchase something from the U.K. online just so you can snap your fingers while sing-speaking, “Hooky Dame. What do I care for a dame? Every old dame is the same!”
But again, “hampers” were out, so Hubby and I spent yesterday sitting beside the local pool discussing other gift options with squiggly L price tags. To a bystander, it mustuv sounded like we were discussing the weights of all the swimmers in the pool. “Yes, but how many POUNDS would THAT be?!?”
To add to the effect, one gift option under discussion was squiggly L 50.12. Squiqqly L is ‘pounds.’ But what the heck is point 12?? I thought it might be ‘shillings’ but then again, I’ve read too many Regency Romance Novels in my life, so maybe not. Hubby thought it was pence. Which I laughed at because it made him sound like he was trying to order a tankard of ale. Even though he’s probably right about the pence thing, I prefer to laugh at him and never admit he’s right (I’m gunning for my OWN fifty-two years of wedded bliss with this tactic), so I decided to call the point 12 a ‘partial pound.’ And see? We’re right back to judging the swimmers based on their weight.
Eventually we decided to have a bottle of champagne delivered to my parents’ hotel room in the late afternoon of their special day. So this morning at 7 a.m. Rocky Mountain Time, I spoke with the Team Lead at Hotel Reception and placed the order. And I know! Team Lead? Hotel Reception?? I’m talking with a fake English accent in my head now too! Also? What IS the time difference between Colorado and Scotland? I’m hoping it’s seven hours difference? Or eight?? I wish I could ask my mother. She’s great with time differences in the Atlantic Ocean.
Whilst speaking with Hotel Reception Come on! Give this one to me. What other time in my LIFE will I EVER be able to say, “Whilst” in casual conversation. With a fake English accent. Never, that’s when. So you GOTTA give this one to me. I was informed that for one pound extra I could have ten pounds of chocolate delivered WITH the champagne. Or…maybe it was for ten pounds extra I could have a pound of chocolate delivered with the champagne? Who knows. It’s confusing when people with accents call their money by my country’s weight. It’s almost like math. Actually…it’s TOTALLY like math. In other words: Confusing. Like I just said.
Anyway, that’s done. Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you! And by a quick show of hands, who’s your favorite child?? Still no? Well at least you’re always glad you had me, right?! RIGHT??