the pieces of my life

My Daughter Exhibits her Worldliness
Looking at a book on London, she spies a picture of Westminster Abbey.

(Photo from About London Picture Gallery)

She looked at it and then asked in her most astonished voice, “Mommy! Is that Downton Abbey?”

My Husband Makes Me Feel Incredibly Old, Part 1
Waiting for Downton Abbey to begin, there’s a show on about British weddings.
Me: Hey, Adam. Ring ring!
Adam: Huh?
Me: I’m calling you.
Adam: Oh. Hello.
Me: Do you have Prince Albert in a Can?
Adam: Do I have what?
Me: Do you have Prince Albert in a Can?
Adam: What the hell are you talking about?

Sigh.

My Husband Makes Me Feel Incredibly Old, Part 2
Again, Downton Abbey is about to start.
Me: I read that Laura Linney’s stupid intro causes a few seconds to be trimmed from the show!
Adam: Really?
Me: I can’t stand those intros.
Adam: Why do you think they have them?
Me: I dunno. Because Alistair Cooke is dead?
Adam: Who?
Me: You know. Alistair Cooke. [in my British voice, otherwise known as my “hold my nose” voice] “I am Alistair Cooke and this is Masterpiece Theater.”
Adam: I have no idea who you’re talking about.
Me: The old guy who came on before your parents watched Upstairs Downstairs.
Adam: Still no idea who you’re talking bout.
Me: Well, what about Alistair Cookie? Do you remember Alistair Cookie?
Adam: Sure.
Me: Really?
Adam: No. I have no idea who that is either. But I’ve seem to have done pretty well despite it.

Again. Sigh.

And as a point of comparison:

Pie is hooked on the “watch every Hannah ever made!” on Disney, so every evening we tune into Hannah Montana. I often sit with her, and it makes me feel… dirty. But I feel slightly redeemed because tonight’s episode, from 2007, has Larry David in it. Larry David! On Hannah Montana. Somehow, Larry David makes it all better.

I was feeling so nice and relaxed yesterday. Adam had a meeting in Cambridge in the morning, so he took the afternoon off and came to relieve me with the kids. I got sent to a massage, and luxuriated for a whole glorious hour and fifteen minutes. (Side note: In the morning, I realized I should shower before the massage. I was a little low on time, so I decided to just run a three-miler. I was a mile and a half in when it occurred to me, “Hey, I don’t have to run to take a shower. One can just shower.” But by then I was too far into my run for it to make a difference.)

All that nice and relaxed went away today. As I sat. And sat. And sat at Pie’s dance recital rehearsal. Time just slooooooooows right down in there.  26 classes. Pie’s class? 25th on the program. Joy! Oh, and we started 45 minutes late.  Which enabled us to head home right smack in the middle of rush hour. But Pie (and Jasmine) loved it and they can’t wait for the actual recital tomorrow and they were just so cute, it was all worth it. And since we got home too late to make any kind of meal, I just threw food at the kids and decided to make my dinner a Zinfandel.  They go to bed for their naps (at least that’s what the seem like–the boy doesn’t sleep anymore. He stays up reading till about 9 p.m. and then wakes himself up and heads downstairs around 5 a.m. When I asked him why he doesn’t sleep anymore he told me, “Sleeping is what us kids call boring… or lame”). And I’m going to catch up on a week’s worth of TV.

No more Hannah, though. Not unless Larry David becomes a regular.