Me and my BIG FAT MOUTH.
This week my host mum speaks fantastic English, so rather than using international hand gestures and smiling far more than is normal for somebody who is trusted to be alone with children we have been able to indulge in actual conversation.
Naturally, the, we started talking about the Royal family because, of course, that is the be-all-and-end-all of what it is to be British.
I started out defending Sarah Ferguson in her recent TOTAL ENTRAPMENT scandal, declaring that if somebody set me up in the same way I'd probably fall for it too because we're all human, and money talks, and I'm as free of scruples as the next guy.
And then, before I know it, we started talking about Kate Middleton.
"Urgh! What an awful example for a whole generation of young girls!" I exclaimed from atop my soapbox. "Making a shrewd, calculated move to be in the same time and place as a prince so that you could ensnare his heart, and then put your ENTIRE LIFE on hold for nearly a decade until he decides that actually, he will marry you after all. If he has to. She doesn't even work! She is literally just waiting for the ring on her finger! It's ridiculous, and about as relevant as 1922. She is SUCH a disappointment. Finishing school just to get a husband. Humph."
And then I probably stomped my foot.
My host mama looked at me. "I did the same," she said. "Not with a prince, but I just wanted to get married." And then she excused herself.
Ooooops. Well. I supposed everybody is entitled to my opinion.