Mom and Dad are hanging out in Europa Europa and the Boy and I are off to speak in fake English accents with them for a few days in London.
Actually, the Boy will probably speak in his (what I think is) adorable broken English, with the usual overuse of things like "I say you, this dinner is many money" and, when ordering, the typical "I take one steak."
I will busily snicker behind people's backs because every time I am in England, without fail, I have a moment where I say to myself, "Wow. They really do talk like that." There's something about the accent that makes me always think that people are just doing it for show.
Boy and I will spend the weekend with the parental unit, and then Boy will go home Sunday because he has to work, Dad will go to meetings Monday and Tuesday, and Mom and I will hit the town. Two hot babes out on the streets of London. Watch out, Big Ben.
Mom and I travel well together. There is the required shopping trip involved in every mother-daughter trip to any foreign city, even if it's Boise. I have a hard time arguing against this activity, and Mom takes a ridiculous and obvious pleasure in outfitting her children. She's good at it. She is relentless in her search for clothing, keeping the faith long after I have given up, and usually recharging my desire to buy! buy! buy! by day's end. Her dedication to my wardrobe is impressive, and a telltale sign of her love.
But more than the shopping is the carefree nature my mom takes on when she's travelling. She's intent on having a good time, and honestly, she loves just walking around a foreign city as much as I do. We giggle at things we see, sit around and gab, squeeze one another's hands, hit one another and say, "Oh, look!", order dessert and say, "Oh, hell, I'm on vacation."
We'll get up early and discuss the options for the day. Most likely we'll meet up for breakfast in the hotel, I'll drink too much coffee and spend the first few hours of the day zipping around town and getting excited about stupid shit I see in store windows. The giddiness will be infectious, and we'll be walking arm in arm down the streets with caffeine-enduced smiles strapped across our faces. Then I'll suddenly get cranky and irritable, and Mom will intuitively know that it's time for me to recuperate. We'll pause and have a leisurely coffee - perhaps tea in England, I'll feel good because I'll make her laugh a few times, and she'll wink and say, "Oh, you're just so much fun to be with." Then we'll act like little schoolgirls on a field trip while we deviously plan where we're to go next. A funny-looking person might cause Mom to make her surprised, slightly mocking face at me after said person walks by, and the two of us will laugh together and Mom might store it away as something to tell Dad about later, over dinner.
When we do hook up with Dad, we'll be weary but happy to see him, and he'll let out his quiet smile that says, "I'm glad you two had fun, I wish I could have been there, but I know that if I was there, you wouldn't have been able to shop or wander around in peace." Dad does museums in twenty minutes. Mom and I take two hours. When the three of us are together we somehow have to balance each of our desires. Last time we were in London together, we all spent quality time shopping: Dad went to the bar across the street and read the paper while Mom and I stayed inside. A fun time was had by all.
We'll see if we all have a good time this time. I gotta go. London's calling.
so jealous. so incredibly jealous. my mom hates *hates* HATES to shop. so lucky you are. :)
okay, the above comment is mine. i didn't mean to be an anonymous stalker, i swear.
Hope you had a great time...I'd love to be in London right now.
this sounds like so much fun. Have an amazing time. (The Boy's English is really, really cute.)