Pinky Pie

Liz, the royal abdication & Me

Posted on: April 30, 2011

The best hats at the Royal Wedding. Liz, you could wear hats like this if you became unqueen. http://www.irishcentral.com/news/Irish-hat-designer-Philip-Treacy-on-top-at-Royal-wedding---PHOTOS-121019169.html

The wedding is over, Liz. You threw a great party. Now it’s time to do your motherly duty.

Abdicate.

It’s not like it’s never been done. Your father became king after his brother abdicated for the woman he loved. (And I loved the movie ” The King’s Speech.”)

Now you can abdicate for the one you love. Or, are supposed to love.

Being a mother myself, I don’t know how you could make Charles wait much longer to become king.  It’s been 59 years – it’s time for a gold watch.

I’m sure it has been cool to be queen and you get to wear all those hats. But the Queen Mum got to wear cute hats until her death at age 101.

It doesn’t have to be hats off for you if you became the unqueen or the queen emeritus. You could wear all the plumes and feathers you love on your hats, even be a little sassy if you’d like without being the reigning queen. You could wear daring hats like your granddaughters, Beatrice and Eugenie, daughters of Prince Andrew and Fergie (who some want to forget). The granddaughters’ hats by Irish designer Philip Treacy Friday were unusual to say the least.

So come on. Let’s give it up for Chucky. Give him the throne. Roll over, Beethoven.

I’m a mom. You’re a mom. I know there was never a chance I would be a queen, but if I were, I would still let my son be king before doddering set in. Maybe that’s the Jewish mom in me wanting the best for my kids.

Abdicate for sonny. I don’t know if he’s earned it or not, but his existence on the planet is to become king of England. Let him do it. He’s gardened enough.

Longevity runs in your family. What if you live to 101 and Charles, being a man, went  to that great realm in the sky before you. That would be oh so gauche, a word I don’t think I’ve ever actually written before.

Just do it. Move over. You’ve done a heck of a job since your dad’s death in 1952, the year I was born.

Be off with you. Hit the road. Put an egg in your shoe and beat it.

Skedaddle for the one you love or should love more than yourself – your son.

Oh, but first please accept my  congratulations on your grandson’s wedding.

Incidentally, this is my last comment on the royal wedding.

I think.

Last word except for this photo, which NPR described as the best wedding photo.. I could be that little girl. Thanks to Jean for posting this photo first. I love it. Love it!!!!

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