Nothing could be finer...

So I've taken to listening to my family's Christmas albums on my December training runs for Boston 2012.

And I don't mean family faves like Barry Manilow's Because It's Christmas or A Rosie Christmas or Christmas With the Chipmunks, I mean the album brought to you by the brilliance of none other than mother turned producer Mama Naugs, who thought up the idea to gift to friends and family compilations of my siblings and I (and various special guests - herself included naturally) singing carols and Christmas Songs one year resulting in a twelve year streak of recordings done at our family friends' studio in Groton, MA.

And this morning, I listened to the year my Nanny & Papa were our guest stars.  And talk about talent.  My Nanny croons like she's straight off the soundtrack of a Cary Grant movie - her voice is so sweet & buttery on the brink of a warble (you know the effect I mean?), and well anyway, as I ran I thought about how I planned to write a post bemoaning the fact that I have to do my laundry today.

I know that for most 20somethings laundry's sort of just a part of life but for me it is the BANE OF MY EXISTENCE.  I detest the whole process and am patiently as possible awaiting the day in my life when I have someone to do it FOR me (and someone to drive me around, but more on that later).  Now whether this will be one person or I will divide these tasks up amongst a supportive staff of sorts one day is TBD, I just know it HAS to happen, and I SUSPECT I have this hankering for help in these two particular arenas because I saw my Papa drive my Nanny everywhere AND do the laundry for her year in and year out.  Note: she'd do the wash, but they didn't have a dryer so he used to drive to the laundromat when the loads came out of the laundry on days when they couldn't be hanged out to dry in the back yard (they're country folk).

The thing is, their love story is far from fairy tale fancy.  It's been a tumultuous ride for the two of them.  But in my warped sense of reality, I still see my Nanny's life as being somewhat that of a princess's.  And to hear my Nanny, in her crooner voice, duet with my Papa to the song "Nothing Would Be Finer Than To Be In Carolina..." which they'll do upon request at the drop of a hat, and have always done regardless of whether they were getting along at that given moment in time, you'd think the two of them were movie stars madly in love.

And frankly, a girl can dream.  If it's my future husband who sweeps me off my feet with gestures of doing the laundry and driving me places, God Bless, if not, c'est la vie - I'll keep pounding the pavement till I can pay for these services.

Seriously, nothing could be finer.