Day 477: Clarification - Living Overseas Tip #2

Reference: Day 435: Living Overseas Tip #2

My friend Kerry posed a very good question about my ill conceived game of risk. Who won? Oddly enough… it was the Australians.

Day 473: Dad, I Believe You Are Funny

Grayson and I have made quite the tradition our special guys nights: dinner at McDonald’s followed by a trip to Lilliput (an indoor bouncy castle place). Both our guys nights and Lilliput will eventually be subjects of later postings… but today, I want to focus on Grayson developing sense of humor… which frankly, is amazing to watch. He’s pretty darn funny and his timing is getting pretty good. Right now he is obsessed with “knock-knock jokes” and his favorite is the “interrupting cow knock-knock joke”.

This is normally how it goes:

Grayson: Knock-knock.

Me: Who’s there?

Grayson: Interrupting cow.

Me: Interrupting cow who?

Grayson: Moo… no wait… do it again.

Me: Who’s there?

Grayson: Interrupting cow?

Me: Interup—

Grayson: Moo!

Honestly, I kind of like the joke much better when he messes up the first time… because the look on his face is priceless when he forgets to moo. He looks like an actor who’s forgotten a line he knows he forgot to say.

Anyway, now the jokes I like to play on him is a bit more tortuous. I like to tell him the opposite of things.

Grayson: Dad will you read me a book.

Me: No.

And everything will do silent… and then I will crack a smile and he will start laughing. “Dad, you’re so silly.” And the best part is when he relives the joke with Serena. “Mom… mom… I asked dad to read me a book and he said ‘no’… but he was really just kidding. Daddy is silly.”

And I like to vary it up from time to time.

Me: Grayson, would you like something to drink?

Grayson: Yes, milk please.

Me: Here’s your orange juice.

Now… again… torturous… but his face is priceless. Normally he’ll say something like, “but dad I—“ and then he’ll notice the cup I’m holding out for him (the joke only works when it’s a clear cup)… now Grayson is pretty easy to read and I can always tell the first thing that pops in his head, “why is the orange juice white?” Then you can see the light bulb go on… and he just starts laughing.

So, point of the post (if there is one) is that the other day after our weekly trip to McDonalds, we arrive at Lilliput, I park the car, and Grayson asks “Are we at Lilliput?”

Me: No, I wanted to go to the hardware store.

Of course for about one second Grayson looks shell shocked… and then was like… “No… we’re at Lilliput”.

Me: Sure, we’re going to go to Lilliput after the hardware store unless you’re tired and then we can just go home after I window shop.”

Grayson: No dad… we’re at Lilliput… I know we are… there’s it is.

And he’s right… he’s finally looked out the window to confirm our location. But what really ticked me this time is how Grayson kept going on and on about my little joke.

Grayson: Oh, dad… you said we were going to a hardware store… but we’re at Lilliput. You almost tricked me… I believe that was a good joke.

Me: You really think it was a good joke?

Grayson: No, I believe it was a good joke.

I don’t know why, but he was pretty insistent about using the work “believe” and I kinda dig it.Not to get overly philosophical on everyone, although “think” and “believe” are synonyms they hold very different contexts. To “think” is more like, “Daddy, it could be a funny joke… and I think it is… but there simply isn’t enough data to support that conclusion.” But, to “believe” is much more absolute… to your core. Question: do you think God exists? Or do you believe in God? I guess in the end, Grayson taught me a valuable lesson in the power of words.

Anyway, I must admit one thing… I need to figure out a new joke before Grayson turns 16… or he’s going to be mighty disappointed when he finds an empty garage after I tell him I’m not buying him a car.

Day 469: Sushi Grade?

So… yeah… not every choice in life is a good one… trust me I know, I have made quite a few bad decisions in my life, but none quite as comical as this.

Serena and I try to go out about once a week for a date night. When we first arrived in Belgrade we were pretty religious about it. It was fun, frolicking hand in hand exploring the city and checking out various restaurants. I describe this tradition in past tense because, as you can imagine, we’re not venturing out quite as much as Serena’s pregnancy progresses.

But anyway, this is pretty much how a normal date night would run down: at some point during my work day, I would receive a text message from Serena with an address. After work, I would jump in a taxi, get yelled at by the driver for putting on my seatbelt, and eventually I would be dropped off at the appropriate address (more or less). Most of the time I wouldn’t really know where I was going and I would simply end up in close proximity to a small bar/café where Serena was waiting… and this bar/café would always be a couple doors down from some restaurant we’d heard about, where we would eventually go have dinner.

Well… this one night… we probably should have stayed at the bar. For on that faithful date night… we through it would be nice to have some sushi. (Please note this was well before Serena was pregnant).

Hey, I know that sushi isn’t for everyone… I know… but I really like sushi… and that night I had the worst sushi I had ever had in my entire life. Now, the comedy behind this outing was actually pointed out by Grayson. Who, apparently, thought it was very funny that his parents were going to an icky restaurant for dinner.

I guess I should clarify. The name of the restaurant was “Ikki Sushi”.

Luckily… food poising was not on the menu.

Day 465: Beware the Sand People

So... the magpies in Belgrade are scary huge and they have no fear. I have witnessed them taking on the neighborhood dumpster cats (which is a whole different problem for a different time)… and during most of these spectacular aerial assaults the magpies seem to be on the winning side.

Seriously, I’ve seen with my own eyes a dumpster cat fashion a white flag out of a garbage bag and a chopstick.

Now, beyond this, having zero experience with magpies, and I find the most frightening thing about them is the sound they make. I swear to God they sound just like the Sand People from Star Wars. Maybe I’m just hyper aware since Grayson is going through a Star Wars phase… but it freaks me out… whenever I hear a magpie it is quickly followed by my internal Obi Wan telling me to find shelter before they come back in greater numbers.

It’s chilling.

Day 461: Michelangelo di New York Sewer System

So... Grayson is really into the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Which is totally cool with me, because I dug them when I was a kid too... okay... I still dig ‘em, but don’t tell anyone.

But, I do have to say that my perspective is a bit different revisiting TMNT as an adult. I guess I am not as accepting of certain character choices.

Will someone please explain to me why Michelangelo has a California Surfer accent? Seriously! The Ninja Turtles grew up in the New York City sewer system. The rest of the Ninja Turtle have accents that fit the region... so is Michelangelo's problem? Was he part of some exchange program? Did Splinter drop him on his head too much when he was an Infant Mutant Ninja Turtle? I want answers!

Day 457: Seatbelt Safety in Belgrade

The evolution of seatbelt and car seat safety is pretty amazing isn’t it? I don’t know about you guys... but I have no memory at all of sitting in a car seat... or a booster seat... nothing. But, I do remember laying across the front (bench-style) seat of my parents Chevy station wagon with my head on my mom’s lap as she drove home from the store. Did this make them bad parents? Not at all, I turned out okay... I only twitch from time to time... but this non-existent car-seat was normal when I was a kid.

Now? When we see an unrestrained kid in a moving vehicle we question the drives competency to parent. Oh, how times have changed... or not... being in Belgrade, where using a car-seat is not a social norm, let alone wearing a seatbelt for that matter, things can seem a bit strange... at least from an American perspective... but don’t worry folks... Grayson is still rockin’ the car seat... but I have noticed that I’ve been going a little native when it comes to my own seemingly engrained seatbelt habit... at least as a passenger in a taxi cab.

You see? For some reason taxi cab drives in Belgrade despise seatbelts. So much so, that most driver keep them tucked behind their seats... their backseats... seriously... they will fold their backseats forward, tuck their seatbelts behind, and then snap the seats back in place. Doing this makes it impossible for the backseat passenger to access the seatbelt at all. Why go to this much trouble? I haven’t the foggiest.

I have seen a taxi cab driver who had gone to the trouble of cut out his own seatbelt with a machete, retrieve the metal buckle piece and insert it into the latch, evidently to keep his car’s seatbelt warning from beeping.

I’ve had a friend, while sitting in the front passenger seat of a taxi get yelled at by the driver for putting on his seatbelt. Apparently, the driver was greatly offended by the action. To him, having a passenger put on a seatbelt was a great insult to his abilities as a driver.

But, a couple days ago... I was in a taxi and saw the greatest misuse of a seatbelt that I have ever witnessed. After giving the driver my destination and before he put the car in gear he started pulling at his seatbelt. Of course... this took me back. A taxi driver putting on his seatbelt? In Belgrade? This is a first... but, I am also aware that Belgrade is in the process of passing a new seatbelt law, so I was impressed that the taxi driver was taking it upon himself to take action now, rather than wait for the law to pass. Well, that is what I thought... until he tucked the buckle under his right leg rather than latching it in its proper place. Yes folks, my taxi driver was practicing how to dup the law... not adhere to it... I feel it is important to also point out that this guy was driving a manual transmission car. Sigh.

Day 453: Gas Station of Fun

I don’t know if I’ve talked about this in a previous post and if I have, I don’t really care... because it’s just that awesome. Simply put, Serbia is just so darn kid friendly. How kid friendly? Even the gas stations here have playgrounds. Seriously! It’s a pretty common thing, especially the farther from downtown you get... but, that being said, there is a gas station with a playground not very far from home. Once you get out of Belgrade proper and start cruising down the highway, it would be abnormal to come across a gas station without a playground.

Now, I spent the better part of my childhood in the backseat of a 1970-something Chevy station wagon seeing a very large portion of our fine country (America)... but the idea of a playground at a gas station doesn’t seem to ring a bell. Frankly, the idea of a playground at a “rest stop” is equally as foreign. And if you think about it... a rest stop would be a wonderful place for a playground... but for some reason, at least in the south, rest stops seem to be sparsely populated with bathrooms, picnic tables, vending machines... and very poor lighting and none existent staff. But, that is just my perspective.

Imagine a rest stop with bathrooms, a gas station, a cafe or home-style restaurant, a convenient store, and a playground and you’re in Eastern Europe. And honestly, it’s that simple. It’s a one stop shop without having to pull completely off the highway, without the family arguing over which disgusting fast food no one wants to eat... or which gas station on the wrong side of the exit has gas one cent cheaper than the rest. Life is simply easier.

Now, I’m not going to be so bold as to say this model of rest stop doesn’t exist in the States, I’ve been to some... but they more resemble mini-malls with food courts than anything else... and I’ve even been to one with a Sunglass Hut and a Bank Branch... I’ve experienced the “Mall Rest Stop” a couple times drive on toll roads between Maryland and New York State. To me, there is nothing relaxing about a mall or a food court... and listen, I’m already paying your toll... I don’t need to exit through the gift shop.

Anyway, in closing, I will leave you with this: Some of these rest stops in Serbia even have hotels attached in case you need some serious rest. All of this just right off the highway... with plenty of lighting and friendly staff.