4.03.2002
London
Well, I am sorry I haven't been updating lately, dears. I have been in London attending the funeral of my old friend the Queen Mum.
I could go on and on about the very "adventures" she and I had as young girls, but I feel that would be disrespectful. She was a very discreet lady, and I would be loathe to reveal any confidences, though I am burning to do so with a dwarf star like fury.
What I will tell you about instead is a time that she left me to baby sit for Elizabeth. The Queen Mum, or "Mummy" as we all called her, was going to some sort of state affair or other and, as I was visiting London, she asked me to stay with little 12 year old "Libby."
Future queen or no, Libby was a totally spoiled brat.
"Miss Potamus, fetch me a grape. Peel it for me. There's a good peasant."
So it went for hours. Finally, I could stand it no longer. I whipped out a bottle of Russian vodka that I kept for exactly this sort of occasion. I grapsed the young girls jaw firmly, yet gently, and poured the stinging brew down her royal maw.
Well, after the initial gasping, choking and wheezing, Libby settled into sobs alternating with giggles, which is par for the course in my experience with Russian vodka. Before the afternoon was out, she I an were singing "Its a Long Way to Tipperary," replacing every fifth word with something positively scandalous. From that point on, Elizabeth was a totally charming companion.
Actually, it was this very event that led to my receiving my "Lady" title. God Save the Queen!
Well, I am sorry I haven't been updating lately, dears. I have been in London attending the funeral of my old friend the Queen Mum.
I could go on and on about the very "adventures" she and I had as young girls, but I feel that would be disrespectful. She was a very discreet lady, and I would be loathe to reveal any confidences, though I am burning to do so with a dwarf star like fury.
What I will tell you about instead is a time that she left me to baby sit for Elizabeth. The Queen Mum, or "Mummy" as we all called her, was going to some sort of state affair or other and, as I was visiting London, she asked me to stay with little 12 year old "Libby."
Future queen or no, Libby was a totally spoiled brat.
"Miss Potamus, fetch me a grape. Peel it for me. There's a good peasant."
So it went for hours. Finally, I could stand it no longer. I whipped out a bottle of Russian vodka that I kept for exactly this sort of occasion. I grapsed the young girls jaw firmly, yet gently, and poured the stinging brew down her royal maw.
Well, after the initial gasping, choking and wheezing, Libby settled into sobs alternating with giggles, which is par for the course in my experience with Russian vodka. Before the afternoon was out, she I an were singing "Its a Long Way to Tipperary," replacing every fifth word with something positively scandalous. From that point on, Elizabeth was a totally charming companion.
Actually, it was this very event that led to my receiving my "Lady" title. God Save the Queen!
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