New Year Honours

I've scoured the list and I'm not on it. Nor is the Long Suffering Husband. I can't believe it; this was going to be our year. The BBC said that this year the list was overwhelmingly made up of ordinary people. Quite surprising. Aren't honours meant to be for extraordinary people; people who've done something extra from the ordinary? Hey, who am I to argue with the Queen? If she wants to give honours to the ordinary she should just go for it. Some may accuse her of senility but if you are still working and having to balance piles of diamonds on your head at 89 then you could be forgiven for the odd strange decision.

First, I checked the Order of the Bath. If there was going to be a gong for me that would be it. I'm brilliant at sitting in the bath, reading books (don't worry I always have a bath book on the go, so that when I fall asleep I don't electrocute myself with my Kindle), listening to the Archers and topping up the cooling water until my fingers do the dried pea thing. I wasn't there.  In fact there were no ordinary people.  There were chief executives, director generals and professors.  There were none from Essex (I know that ordinary people can live in places other than Essex but surely there are no ordinary Londoners).

I could have been a Dame or a Knight for services to literature (or book reading in the bath).  If I had to choose it would be a Knight as the costume is so much better.  Who wouldn't rather wear a suit of armour that a flouncy frock, bloomers and blue eyeshadow.

The LSH seems to think I'm setting my sights too high.  "People don't just get to be a Sir first.  They have to collect the  letters first. MBE. CBE. OBE."

I could collect the CBE.  Clearly Batty Educator.  It could go to ordinary teachers who just go to work and try not to drown in the paperwork.  The teachers who look down and spot that they are wearing shoes of different colours, who enjoy a good laugh with their pupils (luckily, as they are the butt of many a joke).  I looked at the pages and pages of CBEs and it was full of philanthropists.  The educators had set up acadamies and probably never went to work with odd socks, lost their keys in the fridge, or remembered how to laugh.

What about an OBE?  Surely I could get one of those.  Ordinary Bossy Entertainer.  I'm no Sheridan Smith but when I try to entertain I am very ordinary and because I'm usually in charge of small children I'm quite bossy too.  I could get an OBE for services to wrong notes and clashing harmonies.  But they were all Sheridans and Idris Elbas and Damon Albarns. I'm still setting my sights too high.

I looked at the MBEs.  I was hoping to see Master of Beer and Eating.  I know a few people who would deserve that award.  MBE for services to cheese.  Us ordinary folk have been all over that for the last two weeks.  Unfortunately, the 78 pages of MBEs were for extraordinary people.  People who worked for charity or did amazing things that no one else could.

Oh well.  The Queen hasn't finally lost her marbles and so there will be no award for continuous TV watching for the LSH, or special mention for services to laying on the sofa with a duvet for my son and I will just have to content myself with a Christmas present from a couple of orchestra members, who gave me something that I'm pretending is an award.

It's an MYO for services to Friday evening fun music making.