Fitting In
For many a year, Mr T has been bemused and bewildered by a certain British song. The chipper little song in question celebrates the rare and wondrous occasion when the sun comes out. It doesn’t happen all that often, so it makes sense to mark it’s arrival with a tune.
The chorus of the song is rather simple: “The sun has got his hat on, hip hip hip hooray, the sun has got his hat on and he’s coming out today.” (Quick aside: That’s the only part I know, but after further investigation for this post, because the song was written in the 1930s, it has some very unacceptable words in the actual verse but I only know the chorus).
Whenever I would sing this little ditty (which was frequently, because my father has a song for everything and I’m afraid it’s rubbed off on me), Mr T would shake his head and mutter something about only the crazy Brits would have a song about the sun coming out.
Fast forward to current day, we’ve been in the UK approximately two weeks and it’s rained for a good portion of that time. The minute the sun peeked it’s head around a cloud, Mr T gave me a nudge and with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen said, “The sun has got his hat on!!!!” He’s practically whistling Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah skipping down the street. Never was there a happier human, Julie Andrews ain't got nothing on this guy. I fully expect to see him in Hyde Park stripped down to his unmentionables the minute we break 22 degrees, as is the custom in these parts.
So we’re fitting in quite nicely, but the usual bumps when you move countries or change your life have been keeping us on our toes. When you’re lucky enough to embark on what enlightened folk call “living your best life,” you expect that the moment you ditch your job, get a job, get the girl/boy, get rid of the girl/boy, lose weight, get the money, move countries, or whatever - trumpets will sound, angels will sing and the sun will shine on you every day. But that ain’t life kiddo.
We have our fair share of high fiving ourselves for making such a brilliant decision to embrace life, rip up everything and wing it. There are days when I really think we’ve cracked the code to happiness. Life is for living baby. Bugger working for the man, let’s get out there. And so we have. We’ve changed every single thing about life in one big whammo. And while folks who know us wait for tales of enlightenment from the “other side,” life isn’t nearly quite so dramatic. Let me show you what it’s looked like on our side of the fence these last few days. Here’s some random “highlights.”
Texting in a Waitrose car park (Mr T inside, me and WonderDog in car)
Me: yo. it’s practically snowing up in here. you nearly done?
Him: why do they plastic wrap swede? makes no sense.
Me: cos they crazy for plastic here. it’s a thing. hurry up!
Him: there’s like 8-10 hams in the deli. how can there be that much ham? which one should i get?
Me: they’re all good. pick anything. my eyelashes have actually frozen over
Him: i got wensleydale and chutney crisps. awesome or what!??!?
Me: yes awesome. delicious. great.
Him: what’s wensleydale again?
<10 mins later?>
Me: ???
Him: why does it take so bloody long to find anything?? i'm stuck in the cheese aisle. may not make it out alive...
Driving:
For some inexplicable reason, when we jump in the car to go somewhere, we continue with the world’s worst division of labour. We have the American driving on the “wrong side” of the car, on roads that are smaller than most US sidewalks. And we have the world’s most geographically challenged person as the chief navigator. Now imagine they are married. And it’s pouring rain. And they have no idea where we’re going. Yep, that.
Me: “Um, I think, maybe, yes it’s a left up here. Yes, coming up. 50 yards.”
Him: <Executes a perfect left turn>
Me: “Ahh, and by left, what I actually meant is in fact…right”
Him: ….
Later
Me: “The turn is coming up in 0.2 miles. You’re going right.”
Him: “You sure?”
Me: Yes yes quite sure….coming up…<staring intently at my phone>
We sail right past it.
Me: Ah. Right, that was it. Sorry, the little blue dot didn’t move and then it shot right past. Oopsie. We’ll need a little turn around when you can.
Him: ….
Sport - I should mention that Mr T is a sports fan
Him: “What channel is the Aussie Open on?”
Me: “Um, I don’t think they show it on regular TV here.”
Him: <stunned silence, and then> “Not at all?”
Me: “Nope - maybe the highlights on the news later?
I should mention that he loves most sport but football (soccer) most of all. He’s been so excited to get to England and watch a few more games and get fully into footy mode.
Him: “What about the football?”
Me: “No, you need Sky for that too."<I don’t have the heart to tell him if you want all the games you need both Sky Sport and BT Sport at great expense>
Him: “Not a single game live on regular TV?”
Me: <in my quietest voice> “Um nope.”
Him: …
I have to confess that I’m not one to laugh at others misfortune, but there is one particular instance that has me quietly crying with laughter. In the UK, apparently no one can be trusted with electricity in the bathroom. So you’ll find no plugs in any toilet, water closet or bathroom, except low voltage razor outlets, and more often than not, the light switch is outside the bathroom rather than in it. Just in case you create a tsunami during your morning ablutions, the light switch isn’t prone to any splashing. Safety first! So any time we go somewhere new, especially if it’s dark, I hear the bathroom door shut, then there’s some scratching about, quiet at first and then a little more frantic, a couple of swear words before finally the door is flung open followed by much chuntering as he hunts for the switch. I’m busy weeping with laughter into a pillow.
Then came the incredible moment, after standing out in the sleet and bracing against the lashing wind, desperately trying to get the dog to go for a pee when Mr T got back into the car and utter those immortal words so commonly used when you’ve moved thousands of miles and you’re trying to get used to a new home: “F**k this country!!!” We looked at each other and couldn't stop laughing for 10 minutes!
I tell you the not-so-perfect stuff because it makes for a good tale. But also because it’s real life, not the sanitized version you tend to get on social media. The warts and all. All the niggles and cock-ups aside, we’ve had many brilliant moments, belly laughs and wonderful surprises which have made us realize how truly lucky we are to be doing what we’re doing. The pair of us pinch ourselves on a regular basis, there’s not a lucky star that hasn’t been thanked. Whether the sun has got his hat on or not, we three are living the best life.
And things are about to ramp up a notch as we leave next Friday for the grand five month adventure. Look out Europe, we’re coming for you!
