My son recently needed a shoe box to take to school for an art project. This should be an easy request in my house since I am a girl and have the shoe gene. However, there is not one anywhere in my house. Here is the reason, and also a great tip. Oh and don't worry. I am not giving out any secrets to my husband. He figured this out a while ago.
When you go to buy shoes, always bring a very large purse. You do this because when you buy the shoes you do not get the boxes, nor the bag. These things you will have to explain if your other half sees them. Didn't the Bible say do not let your right hand know what your left is doing - or something like that? Well this is the reason. So, you buy the shoes, put them in your large purse, and them take them out of the store. Now I NEVER buy shoes that I think I might return. Why bother? So next thing you do is rub the soles of the shoes on the ground to scuff them up a bit, open your trunk and toss them in. Then when you get home and your husband is outside, you can open the trunk and say "oh that is where I left those!" If he is in the house, you stick them back in your purse and walk quietly to your room to hide them in your closet for at least a week. Then break them out to wear. If he comments on them you can say "What? These old things?" because you scuffed the bottom and he will have to believe that they are older and he was just not paying attention to your footwear. What man does anyway?
So I needed to get a box for my son. I went into the mall that is next to my building. Really like 100 yards away. Yes, my husband was crazy in picking an apartment attached to a mall. Not my fault! I walk into the store that has shoes that feel like you are walking on cushions, including their high heels! They are amazing. Anyway, the clerk knows my name and my shoe size (hey I am a chatty Kathy is all) and immediately shows me the new shoes that have come in. I probably could have just asked her for a box and she would have given it to me. But hey, you put in a great effort to remember my name and size. Of course, how hard is it? I am the only blonde American that comes into the store, but I will give her the benefit of the doubt. I probably should also mention that the girls in Starbucks right next to the shoe store know my name as well as my order. Is that bad?
So she shows me some flats. They are so comfortable! I have pillows on my feet. Well heck, my son needed a shoe box. So I bought two pair. What happens if the box tears? He would need a back up right? Now he has his box, I have my comfy shoes, and I still carry my big purse.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Innocent Insults?
We went to a very delicious restaurant tonight called Tantra. Probably not a good name for a place to take children, but we had fun. It is a Mongolian BBQ where you pick everything and they grill it for you. And the atmosphere is really nifty. I first went there with my parents when they visited and thought it would be a great place to take my kids. Minus the bathroom. There are "interesting" tantric pictures on the stalls. This is not the funny part of the evening though.
As we were driving home we drove past Hooters. Yes, there is a Hooters here. My husband wants to go to see if it is like the States, but with beautiful Brazilian women. My oldest asked why they called it Hooters. "Well," I explain, "the large anatomy of a woman are called hooters. And the logo is an owl with large eyes to match the women's body parts." My son in all of his innocence says, "But I have never seen an owl with droopy eyes." Let me tell you, we have not laughed so hard in our lives. I almost peed my pants.
The best part was when we got closer to home was that he said he felt really bad. Why is that? "Well, I feel like I just offended mommy."
Hey!
As we were driving home we drove past Hooters. Yes, there is a Hooters here. My husband wants to go to see if it is like the States, but with beautiful Brazilian women. My oldest asked why they called it Hooters. "Well," I explain, "the large anatomy of a woman are called hooters. And the logo is an owl with large eyes to match the women's body parts." My son in all of his innocence says, "But I have never seen an owl with droopy eyes." Let me tell you, we have not laughed so hard in our lives. I almost peed my pants.
The best part was when we got closer to home was that he said he felt really bad. Why is that? "Well, I feel like I just offended mommy."
Hey!
Monday, October 17, 2011
My dad was almost shot... twice.
My parents came to visit for two weeks. We had a great time. I think this is probably the first time they actually had nothing to do if that was what they wanted. We went to Rio so my mom could cry at the Christ statue. We sat on the beach where my parents, for the first time, drank beer on the beach. And guess what, people bring it to you! You don't have to go get or anything at all! Awesome! We went to the local street market to buy food. We went to a craft bazaar. We went to delicious restaurants. We went to the flower market to buy 4 dozen roses for US$15. My parents found out that the flowers are probably the only cheap thing here. You can't even buy flip flops for US$15, but you can buy dozens of roses! Well my house smells good even if our feet don't look pretty. By now you are probably wondering how I got the title though. Well there are two stories to this, hence the twice.
Story one:
To visit Brazil you need a tourist visa. It never used to be like this. However, ever since 9-11 the US has required many countries to need visas if their countrymen want to visit. Brazil is one of those. So in the style of an eye for an eye, Brazil now requires a visa for all Americans. Well, my dad couldn't find the information online, but the Brazilian Consulate in his town is right down the street from his work. So he decided to go and find out how to get one. So he arrives. And it really just looks like an office building. He walks in and goes to the counter to ask questions. The lady behind the counter starts yelling at him. Well, he says he is trying to get a tourist visa. She does not care. He must leave immediately. Kind of like the Amityville Horror house "Get Out!" Now there is a gentleman and a lady sitting in the chairs behind my dad. And this guy is chuckling. My dad turns around and asks what he did. The response: "Well you stepped over the line." What line? Yes, my dad visited Brazil without having a visa, because he could not figure out how to get one and was asking. That is a BIG no-no. However, he was not allowed to ask in Brazil (the other side of the room), he needed to ask from America (the other other side of the room). Needless to say he was given the web address and escorted by guard out of Brazil (really just the Consulate room) and back to America.
Story two:
My parents had a hard time initially listening to my cautions regarding safety. They were taking pictures in the Taxi. They were taking pictures on the street. And they are lucky someone did not come along and steal that camera the first few days! And they also spoke English where I told them not to. This is hard to remember, I know. But there are several places here that when you speak English you become a target. I don't want to become a target, nor do I want my kids as targets for bad people. So we speak English very softly when we are out and about. Luckily enough nothing happened while my parents were here. However, while taking pictures my dad thought it would be a great idea to take a picture of the ATMs we have here. It is actually a kiosk that you enter, with a door for privacy, and get your money. Well he was not actually taking a picture of the ATM because you could not see it through the door. He was taking a picture of the stickers on the outside of the ATM. Why? No clue. He thought it was cool that they had stickers of VISA, Mastercard, PlusLink, and that sort of thing. O-kay. Well, the crime de jour here is blowing up ATMs for the money. A few weeks ago 12 guys decided to blow one up. The cops shot and killed 6 and the other 6 were arrested. Well, my dad took the picture in front of a security guard. Hmm, is he scoping the joint? Let's put it this way, my dad would have had a hole in him if that guard had a gun.
But we did have a great time. They got to see how tough my life is here. Ha-ha. I do miss them. My house was so quiet this morning.
Story one:
To visit Brazil you need a tourist visa. It never used to be like this. However, ever since 9-11 the US has required many countries to need visas if their countrymen want to visit. Brazil is one of those. So in the style of an eye for an eye, Brazil now requires a visa for all Americans. Well, my dad couldn't find the information online, but the Brazilian Consulate in his town is right down the street from his work. So he decided to go and find out how to get one. So he arrives. And it really just looks like an office building. He walks in and goes to the counter to ask questions. The lady behind the counter starts yelling at him. Well, he says he is trying to get a tourist visa. She does not care. He must leave immediately. Kind of like the Amityville Horror house "Get Out!" Now there is a gentleman and a lady sitting in the chairs behind my dad. And this guy is chuckling. My dad turns around and asks what he did. The response: "Well you stepped over the line." What line? Yes, my dad visited Brazil without having a visa, because he could not figure out how to get one and was asking. That is a BIG no-no. However, he was not allowed to ask in Brazil (the other side of the room), he needed to ask from America (the other other side of the room). Needless to say he was given the web address and escorted by guard out of Brazil (really just the Consulate room) and back to America.
Story two:
My parents had a hard time initially listening to my cautions regarding safety. They were taking pictures in the Taxi. They were taking pictures on the street. And they are lucky someone did not come along and steal that camera the first few days! And they also spoke English where I told them not to. This is hard to remember, I know. But there are several places here that when you speak English you become a target. I don't want to become a target, nor do I want my kids as targets for bad people. So we speak English very softly when we are out and about. Luckily enough nothing happened while my parents were here. However, while taking pictures my dad thought it would be a great idea to take a picture of the ATMs we have here. It is actually a kiosk that you enter, with a door for privacy, and get your money. Well he was not actually taking a picture of the ATM because you could not see it through the door. He was taking a picture of the stickers on the outside of the ATM. Why? No clue. He thought it was cool that they had stickers of VISA, Mastercard, PlusLink, and that sort of thing. O-kay. Well, the crime de jour here is blowing up ATMs for the money. A few weeks ago 12 guys decided to blow one up. The cops shot and killed 6 and the other 6 were arrested. Well, my dad took the picture in front of a security guard. Hmm, is he scoping the joint? Let's put it this way, my dad would have had a hole in him if that guard had a gun.
But we did have a great time. They got to see how tough my life is here. Ha-ha. I do miss them. My house was so quiet this morning.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Lost in Pronunciation
My parents have come to visit. We are having a very good time so far. Unfortunately, they do not understand Portuguese. So I have become the interpreter for the house. I have a wonderful maid, Fatima. But my mom and Fatima cannot communicate, so I translate everything.
This has been a good thing because I can practice my Portuguese and make sure I am saying the correct words. However, this morning I had an education.
Dad in Portuguese is Pai. Parents in Portuguese is Pais. You pronounce these like pie and pies. Now to say country is also Pais, but pronounced differently. It is like Pie-ees with a hard stop at the end, not a soft s. Here is where the fun starts. Bread is Pão, like pow. But now many breads is pães. This is pronounced pies but you don't open your mouth wide for the long i sound. It is more muffled. Try it. It is not that easy. It all sounds extremely similar.
The funny part is that when I have been going to the grocery store and I wanted mini French bread rolls I have asked for, say 8 okay, I have asked for 8 paĕs. But it came out like 8 pais. So I have actually been asking for parents at the bakery instead of bread. No wonder they look at me funny.
This has been a good thing because I can practice my Portuguese and make sure I am saying the correct words. However, this morning I had an education.
Dad in Portuguese is Pai. Parents in Portuguese is Pais. You pronounce these like pie and pies. Now to say country is also Pais, but pronounced differently. It is like Pie-ees with a hard stop at the end, not a soft s. Here is where the fun starts. Bread is Pão, like pow. But now many breads is pães. This is pronounced pies but you don't open your mouth wide for the long i sound. It is more muffled. Try it. It is not that easy. It all sounds extremely similar.
The funny part is that when I have been going to the grocery store and I wanted mini French bread rolls I have asked for, say 8 okay, I have asked for 8 paĕs. But it came out like 8 pais. So I have actually been asking for parents at the bakery instead of bread. No wonder they look at me funny.
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