Waterfordgate
I came home only to find that I’ve caused my parents to become social pariahs. It’s been nearly 5 months since the wedding, and the thank-you notes are just now going out. This is a “severe breech of etiquette,” a Henry Jamesean concept which is technically punishable by death in most Southern states.
In my weak defense, I might say that according to all the wedding books, you supposedly have between six months and a year to finish the thank-yous.
Whoever wrote those books was clearly not a member of the Jacksonville chapter of the D.A.R. My inability to write a timely thank-you note has been linked to several deaths and at least one case of psoriasis among the Ladies of the Club, most of whom are old enough to be the actual daughters, or possibly even the second wives, of the Revolution.
Nobody seems to appreciate the fact that, although I haven’t acually “written” all of the thank you notes, I have devoted a great deal of time, effort, and Cherry Flavored Tums into actively worrying over them on a daily basis for nearly 5 months.
Instead, the whole thing has turned into Waterfordgate.
“I can’t believe you haven’t written the Druckers even though they gave you that elegant Waterford ..."
"Oh, yeah," I say. "What exactly is that, anyway?"
Mom thinks, but decides to let the question slide. "It's worth at least $327.”
My mother has an uncanny knack for instantly and accurately appraising the retail value of virtually any gift. Really, she should work for Sotheby’s.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I love it. It's just that, when you write the thank you note, you usually say something like: thank you for the lovely ... how do I fill in the blank?”
“It’s a Waterford ... bowl. Plate. Dish-thingy, it cost at least $325 if it cost a cent.”
Implying that an expensive wedding gift should have a practical use is like implying that our plump Persian cat should go out and get a job as a greeter at Wal-Mart.
... Mom makes a sound that is the universal noise for “do NOT question the purpose of the Waterford bowl/plate/dish/thingy.”
“It’s just that – I was just wondering how to use it around the house,” I say. Or how to use it in a sentence ...
“Well …you could put candy in it. Or … (getting an idea) …. straight pins!" !
Postscript (a double entendre ...) -
Dear Dr. and Mrs. Drucker,
Thank you very much for the elegant Waterford dish bowl appraised at approximately $327. We are keeping candy and straight pins in it.
Love,
Maguerite and Paul
One down, 110 to go ...
In my weak defense, I might say that according to all the wedding books, you supposedly have between six months and a year to finish the thank-yous.
Whoever wrote those books was clearly not a member of the Jacksonville chapter of the D.A.R. My inability to write a timely thank-you note has been linked to several deaths and at least one case of psoriasis among the Ladies of the Club, most of whom are old enough to be the actual daughters, or possibly even the second wives, of the Revolution.
Nobody seems to appreciate the fact that, although I haven’t acually “written” all of the thank you notes, I have devoted a great deal of time, effort, and Cherry Flavored Tums into actively worrying over them on a daily basis for nearly 5 months.
Instead, the whole thing has turned into Waterfordgate.
“I can’t believe you haven’t written the Druckers even though they gave you that elegant Waterford ..."
"Oh, yeah," I say. "What exactly is that, anyway?"
Mom thinks, but decides to let the question slide. "It's worth at least $327.”
My mother has an uncanny knack for instantly and accurately appraising the retail value of virtually any gift. Really, she should work for Sotheby’s.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I love it. It's just that, when you write the thank you note, you usually say something like: thank you for the lovely ... how do I fill in the blank?”
“It’s a Waterford ... bowl. Plate. Dish-thingy, it cost at least $325 if it cost a cent.”
Implying that an expensive wedding gift should have a practical use is like implying that our plump Persian cat should go out and get a job as a greeter at Wal-Mart.
... Mom makes a sound that is the universal noise for “do NOT question the purpose of the Waterford bowl/plate/dish/thingy.”
“It’s just that – I was just wondering how to use it around the house,” I say. Or how to use it in a sentence ...
“Well …you could put candy in it. Or … (getting an idea) …. straight pins!" !
Postscript (a double entendre ...) -
Dear Dr. and Mrs. Drucker,
Thank you very much for the elegant Waterford dish bowl appraised at approximately $327. We are keeping candy and straight pins in it.
Love,
Maguerite and Paul
One down, 110 to go ...
posted by Marguerite at 8:10 PM
2 Comments:
Did I tell you how much I missed you? I so missed your little stories. And hey you should really check out that free trial size penis enlargement pill offer. Hell, I might try out. :)
AWESOME!!! i'm so glad to see you blogging again, and of course, making me fall of my seat in fits of hysteria. now go out and get yourself one of those late night tv writing gigs, or stalk Sara Silverman, i'm sure she'd take you on.
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