Last weekend I went to a wedding where I was reunited with cousins I haven’t seen in a while. While reminiscing about the past, I started to remember how sophisticated these girls were as children. Despite our 7 year age gap, while they were learning their third language and memorizing arias I was watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and roller-skating.

Okay. I admit it. I don’t have the most sophisticated taste. Sorry Mom and Dad. I think caviar is gnarly and Stilton cheese smells like my armpits. I can’t tell good art from bad art because I am too easily impressed by the effort of making something to have any informed opinion. “Wow, it must have taken you a long time to compile this picture of the Queen of England only using different color variations of vaginas from porno magazines. Impressive!” I am not a fan of furniture and always slip through the cracks of chairs with ottomans. When I go to museums I usually space out and think about if I have eaten too many calories that day. I have been known to gag public, and have more than once been spotted hocking loogies… maybe because I was right next to you, but you should mind your own business and leave me to my phlegm. I don’t understand opera, I only speak American, and at fancy dinner parties I tend to hover over the food table eating more than my share and failing at small talk. “So tell me about your relationship with your father…”

But I want The Munch to be sophisticated. I want her to rule the world and be fully prepared to mingle with successful people and say sweeping statements like “Isn’t the snow fabulous? If only it were purely decorative so we could recline on the outdoor chaise lounge while sipping Moet.” I think it would be just peachy if she wore lace and satin, spoke with a British accent, and extended her pinky when she sipped tea. I am thinking of starting her Mandarin lessons so she can be fluent by the time she masters the violin at age 5.

Now if you will excuse me, I simply can’t keep going on like this for we are in a dreadful hurry packing her bags for boarding school in Switzerland. Got to get started early if she wants to graduate from Harvard summa cum laude.

“Mother darling… where ever do you keep your Tolstoy?”