A Fancy Shmancy Dinner

Late Saturday afternoon we are mooching around at home thinking we should really do something.

Miss Fab is in one of her desperate-for-family-fun moods. The volume is going up as she scolds daddy for lounging on the couch, and mummy for playing on the computer.
"Come on!!" she nags, "Let's do something as a family!"

Anyone ever seen those gorgeous Fancy Nancy Books? We picked one up at the library the other day and I have totally fallen in love with Fancy Nancy - she reminds me so much of Miss Fab.

In our library book, Nancy persuades her very plain parents to dress up "fancy" and head off to a restaurant. Miss Fab is inspired, and wants to try that tonight.

It's wet out. And we have a movie night planned (the DVD has been bought, the sweets stashed) and there will be riots from other quarters if the movie night is postponed.

So I come up with a cunning plan. Perceiving that Miss Fab's desperate desire is for us to be fancy, I suggest a fancy dinner at home, before the movie night. Phew, she goes for it, and we push daddy off the couch and send him out in the rain for pizza...

Pizza, not fancy, you say?? Think again.

We put our Pizza on a Pedestal.

We transform ourselves into...

...Isobel and James (a demure young lady of impeccable taste and a young gentleman of elegant refinement)...

...Sybil and Clarence (local aristocracy and people of quality)

...and Norris the butler (a jovial chap, and very entertaining, though somewhat unrefined)

We iron our serviettes and tie them with ribbon; we put out the best china and serve lemonade in wine glasses (and, er wine for the grownups)...

We light the candles, put on the classical music and turn out the lights

We speak in posh voices, use our best manners and eat our pizza daintily (um, all except Norris, that is)

There is charming conversation (no, there was no farting or burping, really! I deny that accusation!

Er, and no tickle fights either. Of course not! Not at the elegant dinner party I have in my mind)

To finish with, an after-dinner waltz. Or should I say, I attempt to waltz with Clarence, James and Norris... the cads! They were simply not gentlemanlike enough to escort a lady in the proper fashion.

I resorted to "taking a turn" with Isobel; but unfortunately she kept giggling uncontrollably as that dashed fellow James tried to grab my picture-taking device (how vulgar!) so the dancing came to an abrupt end... (at which point we blew out the candles, ran for our PJ's, packed Norris off to bed and spent the remainder of the evening being our normal selves in front of a movie. Sigh.)

Ah, but it was jolly good fun while it lasted. Tallyho!