Last night, C and I had dinner at my mom and dad’s house because it was Christine’s (my aunt who was visiting from France) last night in town. Kevin and Yolanda were also over, so it was very much a delightful evening.
To make a long story short, Yolanda, my dad, and Christine grew up together in Venezuela (and it was 1952 and my dad wore little white gloves. Seriously, I need to figure out how to post pictures so you can understand the hilarity of the situation), so there were 9 people and 3 languages packed around the dinner table last night, and we thoroughly enjoyed speaking/listening to French, understanding/speaking feebly some Spanish, and translating into English for my mom. My favorite was translating what Spanish I picked up at one point into French for my sister before she pointed out that, although she couldn’t explain how, she had also understood the Spanish. If this post is confusing, know that it is because the night was confusing. Dinner was delicious (including corn on the cob for Christine because the French apparently only believe in feeding it to animals–sad, huh?), and we left exhausted,hoarse, and completely satiated.
Allyson might move to Australia. They speak English there, so it won’t be that confusing.