Well, we finally hired a
butler. But I saved a lot of money by
taking a man who speaks only his native Welsh.
The communication gap poses its problems, but I’m smiling all the way to
the bank. His name is Bainwarble. My wife, Ducky Bumps, said, “Oh, that’s
nice. What’s his last name?”
“It’s
Bainwarble,” I said. “His first name is
Glassshard. He came to this country to
start over. He’s a coloratura baritone
who was kicked out of his singing group back home. Something about air quality in the choir
loft, I don’t know.”
“That’s
very sad,” she sniffed. At that exact
moment, Bainwarble glided into the room, looking very much like the Adams family’s Lurch.
He extended an exquisite Correlle platter bearing plastic tumblers of
iced tea, bowing and grinning at Ducky Bumps.
“Oh, I don’t want any right now,” she said. Bainwarble bowed even more deeply, grinning
and nodding ‘yes’ and kept the platter before her.
“He’s
a big man, somewhat frightening,” I said, “and he doesn’t understand. Just take a glass, dear.” Then he placed the other glass on my table,
still bowing and smiling. “Thank you
Bainwarble,” I nodded, “that will be all for now!”
His smile widened and he said, “Mae gen i gynluniau ar
gyfer chi,” which I assume is a flowery Welsh phrase meaning something like,
‘Thank you my general.’ It really warms the heart when you know that the people
who work for you find you worthy of their esteem.
No comments:
Post a Comment