Our family dinner conversations are usually pretty lively when Gin starts off the conversation. Here’s some of the stuff that she talks about …
We love watching AMC’s The Walking Dead (thank you Apple TV!). So therefore, we have many conversations surrounding the topic of what would happen if a zombie apocalypse occurred?
Here’s Gin’s theory:
“I just think that it might be possible for zombies to evolve into a more intelligent being if zombies can learn to go straight for the brains of smart people. Think about it; they would target “smart” people and therefore become smarter themselves. Why do zombies keep going? It’s gotta be from the smart people’s brains.”
|I bought the Survival Guide for Gin and|
the hungry zombie for The Shaker
What Gin does to during her study breaks
When Gin needs a break and she has her laptop in front of her, she types random words into Google’s search engine just to see what pops up. She found this link, “cake-flavored” vodka. And she is upset that she hasn’t found it here in Basel because, yup you guessed it, she is of legal age to buy alcohol and she wants to try it! Our trip to North Carolina was only slightly frustrating, as she couldn’t even taste my beer or wine at lunch. Of course I couldn’t help but point out this will be her life in less than 6 months. Ok, maybe not the best “mommy-moment” but I am running out of excuses of how to say, “You want to stay here in Europe to go to university, right?”
This conversation happened in her bedroom last week and nearly sent me over the edge!
Gin: “Today I am wearing my “mom” pants.”
Me: “What are “mom” pants and why don’t I like the sound of this?”
Again to the Internet for an image Google search.
Gin: “These are “mom pants.”
Me: “I am sorry but I know I have some weight to loose, but I don’t look like any of these women, do I? I don’t even hang around with women who dress like this!”
So I walked off and thought about what she is trying to convey to me in saying “mom pants.” Here’s the problem with living in a foreign country trying to speak a foreign language daily. You loose some of your native language vocabulary; you use more of the English vocabulary that the foreigners use in their native language and therefore, they translate into English. (For instance, while living in The Netherlands, The Shaker would use say, “Oh what a pity;” because this is what the Dutch would say to us when speaking English. “Pity” in Dutch is “jammer.”) So, here I am trying hard to search my English slang vocabulary for what Gin is trying to tell me: what do we call “mom pants” in English???
I remembered what we use call these, back in the day, and I run back to her room to say, “What you are trying to tell me is that you are wearing your “fat pants” today. “Fat pants” just means that you want to wear your roomier jeans today.”
Gin, “Well they are no longer called that; they are just called “mom pants.”
I try to avoid being offended, but this certainly did piss me off. And, oh by the way, her “fat pants” look fantastic on her and I am not just saying that because I am her mother who bought her those pants!
Waffles and Cocaine:
One of our family’s favorite movies is Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. Gin announces this about her friendship with another girl from school: “We go together like waffles and cocaine.” I nearly spit my food out, “Cocaine? Really?” Then she reminds me of this clip. Which makes all of laugh …
Captain Jack Sparrow
Gin has never really had back acne skin until recently. I think it has to do with the stress of the IB program. So earlier this week I noticed that her skin has really cleared up. So, a small fortune later and a huge thank you to Clinique and Gin has her beautiful skin again. So after I say this to her and we are all in agreement about her clear skin, Gin pipes up with this. “You know who should really have bad acne? Captain Jack Sparrow (from the Pirates of the Caribbean)! Seriously, if anyone should be taking a bath more often it’s that guy. The smell alone probably could kill a tribe.”
And that, my friends, is my Gin!
The Martini Knitter