We have discovered that our daughter is being courted by someone who is upper-middle class. What ought we to do? Our hope was for our daughter to marry someone who is independently wealthy. Instead, we find much to our chagrin that she is actually fond of this fellow who is a dentist. The notion of our daughter marrying a man who actually works with his hands and deals with all sorts of riff-raff on a daily basis is leaving us in grave distress.
Mrs. B.N. Baboon III has contemplated answering your question, but to be quite frank with you, she does not associate with lower class plebians such as yourself.
Sincerely yours,
Mr. B.A. Baracus, esq.
personal assistant to Mrs. Baboon.
Kindly advise Mrs. Baboon that we shall get along as best we can without her. At the very least, we can be relieved that there won’t be a two-year-old Mercedes parked in the driveway.
Oh, Ethilrist! If you could be so kind as to provide us a reference, we shall be ever so indebted to you. We have already secured the services of someone to advise us on royal protocol.
Mrs. Baboon III has expressed surprise that your trailer park has finally put in driveways.
It must have been awfully difficult to place the pig sty elsewhere. She expresses her regret in not sending a House Warming gift.
-Sincerely yours,
Mr. B.A. Baracus, esq.
personal assistant to Mrs. Baboon.
Kindly advise Mrs. Baboon that we shall lament the absence of her gift, as we fondly remember her prior gift. We are still so fond of our Thomas Kinkade print, and it adds so much to the butler’s water closet.
Darling, if you’re serious about handling this like one of our social class, then I suggest a not too subtle campaign of passive-aggressive behavior and treating the new boyfriend with visible distaste. After this has progressed for a month or so, threaten to yank her trust fund unless she stops seeing this glorified street person and starts associating herself with a man who isn’t a professional spit slinger.
My dear Libertarian, I had the same questions when one of my progeny was entertaining the notion of an engagement with a man of the working class. The young man broke stocks, or something equally vulgar of that nature.
After consulting with the members of my private club, I sent my daughter off to the good sisters at an exclusive convent in Switzerland. Along the way, our driver (Mr. Hardesty) was instructed to make detours taking us past the most miserable of ski chalets. We chided our daughter, “Look at these hovels! Is this how you want to spend your Christmas vacations for the rest of your life? Is it??” Our daughter burst into tears when she saw that they had no servants quarters, no deck off the master suites and that the likelihood of heated towel racks was nil.
We reminded her that she would be gasp renting a villa on the Med, as opposed to owning her own island. Rented villas have goats scampering about! Most unsanitary, I’m told by Mr. Hardesty.
After two weeks at the convent; she returned home a changed girl. Kneeling on dried peas twice daily while perusing the Nieman Marcus catalog gave her the focus that she needed. She’s currently working on her latest needlepoint project. It’s a cover for an ottoman that cunningly bears the motto “Tennis bracelets are for the lowly unwashed masses. I want the Hope Diamond!”
My dear Lib, there is no reason to ship the poor girl off to England! Have you any idea what people’s teeth look like over there? I popped over to London with dear Bets (you remember, the one who breeds pureblood Persians?) for a lark last spring, and we were appalled, simply appalled. It’s enough to send your dear daughter back into the coarse arms of her dentist swain. And the Continent is no better, believe me.
Besides, our American schools are much superior to anything they have in foreign countries. I’ve been so pleased with the academic standards here at Bryn Wellesley-Smith, and they’re always so good about providing us girls with opportunities to associate with the Right Sort. That’s just what your daughter needs, a proper American education.
If that isn’t enough to distract her, simply buy her another horse! She’ll be so busy doting on her pretty new pony that she’ll forget all about that low-class tooth-polisher. If necessary, remind her that a man of his limited means would never be able to provide heated stalls for more than two or three horses, and that’s hardly a proper stable, is it?
Oh, pish posh! What rot. Do they even allow females into Eton nowadays?
Lamia, dearest, you cannot be serious? Why these Americans are notoriously vulgar-the idea of EARNING a living? Why one should have to WORK for their money? Without a thought to who his father or grandfather was!
Bah! What is wrong with children nowadays? You find them an excellent match with someone of proper background and class, and they throw it all away on some nouveau riche bum who actually works for his money!
You simply need to set your dearest down and explain to her that marriage isn’t about love! Why love comes later, but what is most important is making a good match with a man of proper background, education and breeding. Not some vulgar gum swabber!
Oh but Mumsy dearest! I love him. I know he works for a living but I can change him, once he invests we can introduce him to society and he’ll fit right in.
[sub](Did I saw that :eek: I don’t wanna be high society. It’d be too boring for me)[/sub]
That’s right down there with dating a Walton! You must forbid this torrid affair, and find her a proper young man. I’m sure there’s a Rothschild or a Carnegie or a Rockefeller in our group that you could find.