Third day at sea -- Baabette writes
It’s not that Kyle and Roxie are old and stuffy, exactly, but they donb’t stay up and party the way I want to. We had a formal dinner last night and I was so excited getting ready. I wore a sexy pink and blue halter top wrap with a blue necklace and pink earrings. I looked sooo pretty one of the photographers took my picture all by my self.
The public rooms were just crammed full of people in all sorts of fancy clothes. There was a man wearing a beautiful pleated plaid wool skirt which puzzled me no end until Kyle explained that it was a scotch kilt, and the soldiers in Scotland wear them. He said that people in Scotland wear lots of wool, and since I’m part Shetland, then some of my ancestors come from Scotland. I wanted to pet the kilt to see if it feels like anyone I know, but Roxie wouldn’t let me.
Then we went in to dinner. All the people were so pleased that they could order anything they want, as much as they want, even two lobsters. Kyle had three appetizers and a small plate of spaghetti. Roxie had green salad, and broiled fish. Her lunch was another green salad, and breakfast was an egg white and vegetable omelet, so she decided to treat herself to a little glass of Amoretto. It smelled funny and burned my tongue when I tasted it.
After dinner we watched the stage show for a little bit. It had loud music and bright lights and lots of people in bright sparkly clothes singing and dancing. I didn’t know what was going on, but it was all very exciting. I wanted to sing and dance, too, but Roxie, the old stick in the mud, said that they do not encourage audience participation from sheep. How – specie-ist! Then we went to bed.
So when, I want to know, WHEN do I get a chance to sing and dance? Everything is very nice and everyone is very kind, but I want to kick up my heels some time before I die.