The multigenerational clan gathered here yesterday for an egg-free, wheat-free, dairy-free, soy-free, beef-free and nut-free Easter lunch and dinner.
All the Easter eggs were plastic.
Nobody got sick or threw up.
None of the little people’s bumps and bruises produced either (a.) blood or (b.) periods of unconsciousness.
A good time was had by all, as they say.
Great-Grandma got to revel with and delight in her great-grandkids and the grandkids got to bounce on grandpa and grandma’s bed (and on Grandpa) and play with the light-up rubber duckies in the bathroom sink.
Grandma got to have lunch with her grand-daughter at a special table, talking girl-talk all by themselves, without the pesky little under-two year old brother hangin' around.
Also, since potato chips (in moderation) can serve as a reasonable bread substitute, everybody was satiated and happy with the menu Grandpa concocted. Hint: ketchup is non-allergenic and goes great with cantaloupe . . . especially if you’re under six.
Of course, like all family occasions, not everything works out perfectly.
Grave Disappointment (for Grandpa)
I had to break the very sad news to the grandkids that Grandma and Grandpa’s invitation to the Windsor/Middleton wedding at Westminster Abbey later this week still has not arrived, and at this late date, Grandpa would have serious difficulty getting his morning coat properly cleaned and getting decent hotel reservations in London. Grandma’s “getting ready for fancy dress” routine is even more complicated.
Grandkids were appropriately heart-broken and Grandpa is still surprised and a bit non-plussed about the oversight (dare he say snub?), to say the least.
After all, it’s not like it’s going to be a small “family-only” affair or that Grandpa’s a total stranger.
For starters, he and Wills’s stepmum go way, way back, to the mid 60’s in a far-off island land. Almost (but not quite) before Andrew Parker-Bowles. Certainly well before Will’s dad Charles, her current fella. Way, way back to where there were horses in abundance. And greyhounds. And dinner parties with LOTS of forks. And platefuls of cold smoked salmon. And whiskey (the proper kind, with an "e", of course.)
And when the very young and very single Miss Shand (as she was called then) had just been introduced to “society” (as it was called then).
[And yeah, there’s an interesting story here, but not right now.]
Surely, that would have merited an invite (see illus above right), just for old time’s sake. Seriously, how many up-close-and-personal friends could the Windsors actually have?
A Substitute for Disappointment, Perhaps?
So, since there doesn’t seem to be a wedding invitation in the immediate offing (lost in the mail, perchance?) and since the limited-time only, once-in-a-lifetime Dunkin Donuts special “Will and Kate’s Wedding” heart-shaped jelly-filled doughnut (whose details & peculiarities you can see here in all the glorious press-release detail American commerce can provide) is off-limits to the grandkids, I will, in the next shortly-forthcoming post, detail a past (albeit fleeting) encounter between one of Will’s male ancestors and one of the grandkids’ female ancestors, thus keeping things properly "six degrees of Kevin Bacon" genealogical.
Also, that way, the grandkids will have a “royal” story to play with. It just won’t be the 2011 “royal wedding” story. Actually, it will be a story about much more elegant times.
More elegant? Really? What could be more elegant than a 2011 royal wedding/reception?
Well, word has it that Beyonce Knowles and Jay-Z have been invited to perform at Will and Kate’s reception. Seriously. At least, that’s the Word. Up.
It would be worth the price of admission to see HM The Queen and the Archbishop of C. mouthing the lyrics to Jay-Z’s hit “Big Pimpin’.” If you’re not familiar with the lyrics, do a Google search. (Hint: NSFW)
Of course, since Jay-Z is teaming up with Kanye West for a new album called “Watch the Throne”, I guess it all makes sense. Besides, they say that the royal newlyweds-to-be are big fans of the Jay-Z/Beyonce duo.
Still, while I don’t know about you, I’m not much of a hip-hop guy myself. Polka Redowa and the occasional quadrille are more my style, so, much more about that in the next post. And, yes, the long-forgotten “polka redowa” is actually a part of the story…
(So . . .maybe I should check the mail again first thing in the morning for that invitation…? You know, just in case...?)