Well, according to one poster in this thread, it apparently didn’t help Diana much. To think, Charles left her because of the carpet.
I thought “The Ketchup Song” was that annoying dance mix thing that came out a few years ago and was played all the time on the Spanish stations and occasionally on the non-Spanish stations.
And we Merkins do have what the British call “crackers,” though usually they are called “party poppers” or some such. However, some of the more upscale Catalog sellers will sell them as “crackers.”
A wendy house is what we in the states (as far as I know) would call a play house. In my experience, the only girl in the family has one built for her, and throws toys at her brothers from its doorway, until such time as they get too far out of her reach and she has to fire from somewhere else in the yard.
I did not have a play house as I was not an only daughter. Besides, my family never lived in one house long enough to make having one practical.
I for one would have given anything to have had a childhood unmarred by the horror that is the “great” British panto. Washed-up soap stars and cross-dressing comedians making a God-awful mess of an otherwise sweet tale, shouting inane catchphrases at the audience, who shout them back, apparently not realising that if you’re saying 50% of someone’s lines you should demand an understudy’s wage, at least; hideously unfunny nudge-nudge wink-wink “humour”, the main gag stemming from “oh look! there’s a very masculine man dressed as a woman, and a boyish-looking woman dressed as a boy” - hello, Shakespeare did the cross-dressing joke hundreds of years ago and even he struggled to make it funny!
As a child, my first trip to the panto became truely distressing when the lights went down and I realised I wasn’t going to be able to read throughout the “performance”.
See, I love the theatre. Always have. So what I really hate about panto is that for a lot of people, and almost all children, the annual trip to the panto is their only theatrical experience. Children are as capable of enjoying a really well performed piece of theatre as anyone else, and yet we continue to fob them off with this waste of greasepaint.
Jennyrosity, who’s probably more upset by the mere mention of panto than she should be.
I went to two this year - one at the Hackney Empire with my daughter (my son just gave me a look when I suggested it to him). Where a good time was had by all (especially the adults. If you like I can still do the Panda Dance).
I also saw Sir Ian McKellern (and Maureen Lipman) at the Old Vic in Alladin with a score by Sir Elton John and directed by Kevin Spacey. That was a rather different experience - Gandalf as a Dame.
I think I’ve got it. A Wendy House is where you make your first wife live until your divorce is finalized (or finalised). During your second wedding Wife #1 has to stay locked in the Wendy House spreading Marmite on crackers, while Wife # 2 romps under a marquee eating biscuits (cookies) with Posh Spice and Becks.
First wife may fling dung at second wife only from the windows and tiny porch of Wendy House, so as not to dirty second wife’s dress, bought in the Marianas in the 60s. Everyone dances the chicken dance for 20 minutes. At least, that’s what I gathered from reading Jane Eyre
What happens is that the first wife keeps the house and makes you live in a tent. Even if you can prove betyond all reasonable doubt that she is a total termagant, and completely crackers…
