Lolly and I started watching Downton Abbey the other day (because we ran out of our current fave, The Good Wife). After several episodes, the following conversation ensued:
Lolly: I’m pretty sure you should have been a Lord.
Me: Why? Because I’m so noble?
Lolly: No, because you’d live in a house where everything was taken care of, and you’d have someone there to dress you and feed you and take care of all of the details that you normally neglect anyway, and it wouldn’t even be a problem because it would be your job to only focus on the important things.
Me: Like Words with Friends. As well as Gems with Friends.
Lolly: Like writing. And counseling. And ministering.
Me: Oh yes, right. And those things. *cough* Yeah. I could get used to that, methinks.
Lolly: Ooooh, “methinks” huh? Look at you, already preparing to become an heir.
Me: Pretty much. I think I shall call our estate “Weed Abbey.”
Lolly: Yes. That sounds fancy.
Me: And my name shall be Joshua Crawley. 
Lolly: Which, ergo, would make me… Lolly Crawley.
*both look at each other and shake their heads*
Me: Doesn’t work, does it?
Lolly: Noooot s’much.
Me: Well, great. There goes that. Now what am I going to do with my life?
Lolly: You’re just gonna have to face the reality that you’ll never have a manservant there to dress and undress you and button your cufflinks at any moment. 
*both pause for a moment, reflecting*
Me: …probably better that way, come to think of it?
Lolly: Yeah. I think you might be right.
Me: Note to selves: if ever we become heirs to a great fortune of the early 20th century, we will have maids attend to both of us.
Lolly: So let it be done!
*soda pop cans clink*