Oh the trials and tribulations of modern life. You really have no idea how tough things are.
First, an apology. It is NOT my butler who gave notice, but my gentleman's gentleman who is stabbing me in the back, especially in my time of need. And instead of the customary six month notice, he only gave me three! Have you any idea how difficult it is to find a replacement? They don't just grow on Michigan trees, after all.
Actually, the butler and the other help are just fine, especially after we increased their pay to the new minimum wage, cheeky bastards. But getting good help is tough everywhere, no?
Where to start? When did my problems begin? I think it started A few years back with my professed love of the American car.
One confession. I've spoiled my children. It is not only the trust funds, nor the stipends each month. It goes back to their childhood.
When I decided to rough it for a family vacation (we brought only one servant, a driver for the van, and one photographer) we also decided to drive. That meant that Seamus was coming with the family, but even in a station wagon, that left no room for him inside. (the baggage was all shipped ahead, by the way). I wonder what ever happened to Seamus. He was a beautiful dox. No, shepard. No, poodle. Wait, I have it. A retriever!
I swear he loved being up there, with all that fresh air. It was just as though we opened a window for him to slobber out of when we took short trips. I just don't understand why people still complain about it.
Anyway, six years ago, when I began my quest, my image maker strongly advised me against the Bentley. I cannot imagine why, lovely lines, a great ride, and quiet as a obedient spouse until spoken to. But at his demand, I traded it in, sigh, for two new caddies. No, I do NOT golf. That is so . . . plebeian and commonplace. Although I do know a few owners of golf courses.
I mean the other kind, with wheels. And because it was our anniversary, I gave them both to the little lady (who rarely has been so little of late, what with five kids. Ha Ha Ha!) she enjoyed them, and uses them, one at each house.
She loves that American styling and manufacturing, much as I do. There is nothing like an American car. Nothing! Sound more sincere . . . oops, that's what is written down on the teleprompter. Ha Ha Ha!
Anyway, my man learned that I was changing my wardrobe to include denims, a form of material I once saw during the Olympics. Anyway, after my pairs were fitted and dry-cleaned, he strongly objected. I think it was the checkered shirt that was too much for him. I showed him it was Gucci, but he still objected on principle. But I think that the final straw was when I insisted on driving myself in this Pick Up type vehicle. Apparently, the staff used that for groundskeeping in California, and when I borrowed it for my campaign, enough was enough.
Well, if anyone has any suggestions for a new gentleman's gentleman, please drop me a goggle. Or is that a trick? Facebook? Yeah, drop me a facebook. Heck, there may even be a finder's fee, say $10,000?
Oh, and Rick, talking about education, Ha Ha Ha, I hear that you have one, all proof to the contrary. Ha Ha Ha.