My husband is a Limey (I'm not). That means, just in case you don't know, that he is originally from England. Yep, immigrated all the way over here just for me (that story is another post entirely). As I've mentioned before, I absolutely adore him, and I can say the same for my in-laws. As I've joked before, I've finally gotten in-laws that I cherish and wouldn't ya know... they live on another freakin' continent!!!
Now, while we both speak the same language, English of course, we often joke that he actually speaks English, while I (and all of us 'Merikens) speak 'American'. Each day, I learn more and more just how true that statement is. He calls England and America "two countries separated by a common language". He will tell you that that was probably the most difficult thing in adjusting to a new life around these here parts. First of all, ya don't get many Brits in this fly-over-state, so when he has to say something, or ask for something, say at a store, he always has to say it twice, because the first time, they are only hearing the accent, not the actual words. Secondly, they only listen to the accent!!!!!
Now, this can come in pretty handy for him, we've come to learn, especially when requesting something from a female (or a 'light in his loafers' male). For example, he needed to request some medical records from his visit to the emergency room a couple of years ago. He asked me if I would call to get what he needed... I was busy pulling gum out of someone's hair or mud from ear canals or something else freakishly weird... so he had to do it himself. Now, I *know* how Medical Records departments work around here... had I called, I would have been told that he would have to come in, sign a release and pay a nominal fee to have said documents couriered to where ever it was they needed to go. Period... no ifs, ands or buts... He calls and some sweet Southern Belle, no doubt mesmerized by his 'sexy' accent proceeds to tell him that it'll be no problem... she'll get right on it... he didn't have to go in... didn't have to pay a dime... didn't even have to sit on hold. Done. The very next day, no less. Sheesh. Although, we've come to use this to our advantage and know when to toss that sexy accent around to get what we want!!!
Ok... so where was I going with this... today, as he was chatting to his oldest son on IM, he was told that 'Nanny said I need to talk to you'... uh-oh... you can read all about Steve's reaction here, but I'll go on with my version, anyway... Eldest son proceeds to tell him that Nanny (Steve's Mom, or Mum, as the Brits would say) thinks he has put on quite a bit of weight since he has been here (a little over two years now). Steve and I think this is quite funny, since we have both been keeping an eye on our ever decreasing waist lines recently (I'm down thirty pounds!!!). Steve, who is six foot tall, came to the States weighing in at 196 which wasn't heavy for him at all. He weighed in at a whopping 174 this morning, a weight he says he hasn't been at since he was about 30. Again... irony!!!
So, Steve phones his Mum a little while later to inquire as to the pudgy comments apparently directed at him from 5000 miles away. He can't get through the conversation before he hands the phone to me. I swear, she could barely stop laughing long enough to tell me that in the Christmas card we sent (it had the pic of all of us - the one on my blog) his face was looking quite round!!! At this point, I'm burst out in laughter, because one, it just sounds so adorable, this proper English woman giggling and telling me her son looks a bit round, and two, well, it was just funny!!!!! Through my laughter, I try to tell her that maybe it's just because he didn't have any hair (he decided to start having me shave him bald last summer - 112 degree temps will do that to a guy!!)... and I promise her that the shorts he bought during his first summer here can't even be held up with a belt these days. Then, through her screeching wails, she blurts out, "Yes, he was looking quite GINORMOUS!!!"
I have never in my life heard that word, ginormous, let alone applied to my husband, who's nickname is Twig. Needless to say, the laughter continued for several more minutes until I could finally compose my self, as did she, and let him resume the conversation with his Mum.
It was great to hear her voice :) I miss them... they are wonderful people. *And* what wonderful ammo and name-calling I've put in my back pocket when Steve starts misbehaving!!!