Trip Home (12 of 13): Kids.

When my friends and their 2 kids were over at my parents' house to go fishing - the oldest kid is obsessed with fishing, and will go out morning to night if he has a chance - the younger one, who's like 4, had trouble with his Spiderman fishing pole.

"Chinese junk!", the kid was like, and then his older brother responded, "The Chinese can't make anything good!".

My friends eyes shot open, and the husband was like, "Where did you hear that?" - at which the mom was like, "I bet your father" - and it turns out that the kids did in fact hear that from their one granddad, who says stuff like that.

"And how would a Chinese person feel if they heard you say that?", I asked the 2 kids.

Trip Home (11 of 13): Wedding.

As my godmother told my mom on the phone -

My godmother's daughter got married a few weekends ago, and my godmother got pretty trashed at the wedding, to the point where she wouldn't even stand up when someone acknowledged her in a speech, and every time she did get a new drink, her friends would be like, "[my godmother's first name], you need a new drink already?".

Someone even went and told her daughter that her mom was drinking a lot, and her daughter, who's very deadpan, was like, "Get her another one."

Trip Home (10 of 13): Spanish is taking over.

Several appliances of my parents recently failed, and my mom reiterated her wish to know enough Spanish to be able to read an appliance handbook in it, or to use the Spanish option on the credit card machine when she's checking out of the supermarket.

"Why that?", I was like.

"Because it'd be cool," she'd be like.

My parents saw how I was trying to read the free daily Spanish newsmag from my city - I had brought a few copies with me to read some articles and catch up; they have *great* coverage of local and national politics - and my dad said I should try talking with the people cutting down and trimming trees nearby for the power company.

"I think they speak Spanish," my dad was like. "They're so hardworking."

Trip Home (9 of 13): Overheard bathroom convo.

Somehow, my dad was saying to my mom she should use the downstairs bathroom, and she pointed out that he had just used it, and then he said it was fine.

"[my dad's first name]!", my mom was like, "It's the middle of summer, it smells like an I-95 rest stop!"

Trip Home (8 of 13): Language intensity.

While I jog, I try to remember new Latin vocab from the texts that I'm prepping to teach.

"How was your jog?", my mom asked when I got back after one run, and I told her that it went fast, b/c of my trying to remember vocabulary.

"Isn't that a little too intense?", I was like.

"I did the same thing in college when I was learning French," my mom was like. "I would think through conjugations in the shower."

Trip Home (7 of 13): Fat roll.

The other day I was stretching to go jog out by the front steps of my parents' house while my dad was on the porch smoking, and as I was leaning over doing some stretch and my fat roll kind of stuck out of my t-shirt, my dad was like, "You've got a carb belly."

Trip Home (6 of 13): Memory right before left.

The French are assholes.

Like a few days before I left on vacation, the subway was pretty packed, and I was next to this Moroccan-looking guy with a city tourist guidebook, so I started talking to him, and it turns out that he was indeed a tourist, only from France, and his parents are from the West Indies and Spain, but even in France people always think he's Moroccan, since he just looks that way.

(Moroccans are lovely people.)

Anyways, I was talking with the guy about different tourist sites, and after I mentioned that the city is like 1/5 Mexican and there's some really cool neighborhoods, the French guy (who spoke Spanish, thanks to his one Spanish parent) responded to my kind suggestion and just kind of pronounced, "I didn't come to the U.S. to speak Spanish."

That's what he said, verbatim, only in a very thick French accent.

What an asshole.