I'm by no means posh...
...but from the ages of four to seven I lived in Barcelona due to parental work commitments. My dad, being on a pretty good salary, chose to send me and my brother to the private international school rather than one of the rough inner-city Spanish educational establishments.

Anyway, my school, being newly built back then (late 80s), and named after an affluent area of London (Kensington), had the Queen invited to come and officially 'open' it. It was to be a rather large affair, with the press, parents and a number of assorted people invited to come along and wave mini Union Jacks while the old bat did things like shake hands with the headmaster, address the adoring crowd, uncover a plaque, etc.

My class was asked to draw a picture of her, to show how much we appreciated her being there. However being six I didn't really know or care who the Queen was or what she looked like.

Anyway, at one point during the day a woman came into my classroom to have a nosey about. 'And what is that?' she asked, pointing at my picture.

'It's the Queen,' replied I, not taking any real interest in who I was talking to.

'Oh,' she said, and walked off.

The woman who'd come to look at my picture?

Only our bloody monarch, I was later informed.

It's not my fault I didn't know who she was - she'd have been more recognisable if she'd been wearing a bloody crown!
( The Helpful Bear, Thu 15 Sep 2005, 10:56, Reply)