Just Laffs
I’m giving myself permission to lighten the workload around the holidays, so instead of something longer or more personal, this week’s something more silly – a humor piece I’ve had in my back pocket for a long time without quite cracking it. Is THIS the rewrite that does it? I hope so, because you’re about to read it! It’s called…
“A Job Listing from Two Victorian Children”
Meet the team: We’re Edward and Elsie – just two adorable cherubs needing care and tutoring. Edward favors a Little Lord Fauntleroy cap and velvet suits with pockets large enough to hold alaming insects to produce at inopportune times, and Elsie wears her hair in long blond ringlets and carries a porcelain baby doll everywhere. Did the doll just move? You may as well ask if we’re twins! Who knows? It’s pretty vague. We sure do seem inseparable, though, as if death itself couldn’t part us! Ha ha!
Seeking YOU: A young woman with limited prospects, of approximate marrying age. Sorry, is it offensive to define you by your relationship status, in 2024? We’re Victorian, so we’re ignorant of the latest gender politics. Although – since we’re already swimming in questionable waters – it would definitely be a plus if you’re sexually repressed, and prone to having your moods misinterpreted/dismissed by society. Also, we strongly prefer someone with no family attachments. Not that we’re planning anything.
Our Story: Lately, we’ve been ever so cold. And we’re not quite sure how we got here, or where mummy and daddy went. Still, despite our eerie stares whenever you inquire about our details, you will have never seen such happy children – whether we’re running about, playing here-we-go-round-the-mulberry-bush, rocking furiously in rocking chairs, watching spiders eat butterflies, or standing above you as you sleep.
While we can’t offer much in the way of a traditional “paycheck” (as we mentioned, our parents have mysteriously vanished – please come back, dears, we pray most fervently!), we can direct you to gold and assorted valuables that our wealthy uncle hid in the basement, behind two tiny skeletons we can’t identify but give us an odd feeling whenever we approach.
Additionally, you’ll enjoy room and board at our country mansion, where you will almost never spy a mysterious figure on the parapets. While the estate is very quiet and isolated, we do occasionally welcome houseguests – usually guided by a man or woman in a blue blazer and nametag. These funny people sign papers we cannot read, discuss renovations, make plans for the future, and linger a while. Yet, just when we’ve begun to rejoice (perhaps our years of isolation will finally end!), they flee in horror. Perhaps they noticed the mold in the basement. Or the skeletons.
Job duties: Beyond normal care for two theoretically-growing children, you'll be expected to teach basic lessons. We would dearly love to attend public school, but Elsie’s mysterious wasting disease won’t allow for it, and Edward is quite disconsolate without her. Also, we seem to not be able to walk past the far gate, for some reason.
These needs are simple: sums, penmanship, elocution, sewing, singing, and basic geography. We simply adore looking at maps and dreaming of adventure in far-flung colonies, like Rhodesia, Ceylon, or the British Cameroons. Please do not show us “newer” maps, lest Elsie have one of her “fits.” Some of our schooling preferences may seem old-fashioned, like our predilection to do maths with a slate and chalk, rather than a tablet, but we’re sure you understand. We’re trying to limit our screen time, whatever that is.
Speaking of which, we would prefer you to also limit your screen time -- as in, leaving your cell phone at home when you come. Naturally, you may be concerned about being cut off from the outside world, especially in the event of some misfortune; but we can assure you, a phone won’t be necessary. Why not? It just won’t. You can trust us. Look at our golden ringlets.
If help is required, please know that we’re a scant day’s ride from our nearest neighbors, a distance easily traversed by our dear horse Fairfax. Although lately he’s become somewhat volatile, and prone to buck when we approach. Still, we’re sure you can handle his quirks.
You will find us the best of children! Intelligent, intense, and affectionate. So very affectionate. Many’s the time you’ll find yourself saying, “Ouch. Edward! You’re hurting me! That hug’s too tight!” We three will make the perfect trio. Us, with our almost-disconcertingly pleasant disposition, you with your barely-contained, mounting hysteria.
What larks we will have! What marvelous larks! Unless you punish us, in which case I’m afraid we will get very cross. Very cross indeed.
We look forward to many happy summers together, and many cozy winters (confined to the house by the violent blizzards of this region). As we grow more accustomed to your presence, our pleasant diversions may expand to include singing soft nursery rhymes, appearing in window reflections, and saying weird things in unison. Please don’t be alarmed. We love you ever so much. We wish you could stay with us forever!
Forever.
For earlier posts, check out the archive. In my other life, I’m a podcaster. Listen to my show The Flop House, here. In my other other life, I’m an Emmy-winning comedy writer. If you’re looking to staff, get in touch! And if you love the newsletter, you can always consider tipping me, by enrolling in the paid tier!