Should've Been and Upstairs Girl

I have a confession to make, Gentle Reader.

I was born in the wrong era.  And to the wrong class.

This is what I am supposed to look like.  These should have been my sisters.

I was supposed to have sisters, did you know that?  Lovely ones.  And we were all supposed to wear white and skip down the beautiful lane to our country estate, holding hands without a care in the world.  

Okay...  Austen purists.  I know that this is a photo of the Bennett sisters.  I know they had that whole entailment thing to worry about, and that they had cares, and that their mother didn't tend to their education, so Elizabeth Darcey didn't play pianoforte or paint watercolors...  I know.  But it's a pretty picture.

Okay, so I was supposed to look like this.

Just look at me!  Don't I look happy?

Aren't I a vision in white?

The empire waist dress is so flattering.

I was supposed to paint watercolors, sing Italian, play the pianoforte.  

I would have freaking rocked.  

I wasn't made for this plebeian lifestyle.

I was not cut out to wash my own clothes, let alone for anybody else.

I should be choosing ribbon for the next ball.

And ringing the bell for tea.

And painting a screen.

Or singing art songs.

My husband says that if I was born then, I would have been downstairs in the kitchens.

Mean, isn't he?

Send him an email and tell him, would you?

Oh, look.  There we are now.  He can be such a downer.

I most certainly would have been an upstairs girl.

Haven't you ever heard me play the pianoforte?