When I'm asked what it's like to be married to someone from another country, I usually wrinkle up my nose and say; "I dunno, rather like being married to someone from the U.S." I mean, seriously, how different can we be? We spell words the same, except for that annoying "u" they insist on adding to words like colour, flavour, favour and tumour. I jest...yes, I do know that it was President Theodore Roosevelt that removed the "u" from words in an attempt to phonetisize the words to facilitate easier spelling. Hey, we're Americans after all, if we can make something easier, we'll generally do it. My point is, it's not too terribly different being married to someone from a predominantly English speaking country. Of course, they do drive those bloody small cars on the wrong side of the road, and all the roundabouts over there are enough to drive anyone mad, and have you seen the size of their refridgerators? They're the size of a small television!
Both the US and UK have McDonalds (and a host of other shared fast food chains in common), sports fanatics (I will concede that the Italians sometimes put both countries to shame when it comes to how fanatical they get at sporting events!), and we both speak English...except, we don't. Speak English that is, a fact my husband reminds me of on an all too frequent basis. OK, so I poke fun at him from time to time, especially the way he and other Brits pronounce "schedule." It comes out sounding like "SHedjoole" and it's like nails on a chalkboard when I hear it. When the hubby says it, my eyes roll back in my head, I start to twitch, foam at the mouth, and have a seizure.
Does the hubby call 911 when he sees this happen? No! He just looks down at my writhing body and tells me that he's sorry I speak some bastardized version of the English language and can't understand the Queen's English when I hear it and then asks if I'd like a cup of tea.
If you think that's bad, the Little Imp is now pronouncing words just like her daddy! Oh yes she is! For instance; you and I saw dance, she says "daunce", you and I say class, she says "claus", you and I say banana, she says' "banauna", you and I say glass, she says "glaus." Can you see where I'm going with this? Of course, she also calls me "mummy" but it sounds so adorable coming out of her not quite 3 year old mouth that I can't help but beam when she says it.
The difference in how the hubby and I communicate became all too apparent the other day as we were driving along the freeway and came upon a horrible car crash site. The hubby remarked; "Right, looks like the the car span into the guardrail."
Pale British guy say what?
I looked at him and said, "What did you just say?" I seriously didn't understand him. So he repeated himself and I vollied back a, "Huh?" The hubby lobbed back an increasingly frustrated, "I said he span into the guardrail!" I turned around and dug my nails into the steering wheel and said; "It's spun, 'he spun into the guardrail! Span is something that extends across something." The hubby straightened up in his seat and replied, "It's the same thing, luv."
From that point on the conversation disintegrated.
Me: Is not.
Him: Is too!
Me: IT IS NOT! Look it up in the freaking dictionary!
Him: IS TOO! And your dictionary was written by a bunch of flaming Yanks!
Me: Well, those "flaming Yanks" kicked your Red Coats back across the Atlantic Ocean thankyouverymuch!
Him: If it wasn't for the English you'd all be speaking either Dutch or some Native American language and you'd be stuck with even more silly city names like Intercourse (PA), Odd (WV), or even Monkey's Eyebrow (AZ)!
Me: Oh you are really one to talk Mr. Great Snoring (Norfolk) , Killiecrankie (Scotland), Felldownhead (Devon), oh and you can't forget North Piddle (Worcester)! Oh yeah, you Brits have really cornered the market on town names that just roll off the tongue!
Him: Right! Don't be a prat, after all if it wasn't for the great Enlgishman Luke Howard, you'd all probably have named clouds something ridiculous like Fluffy, Chubmonster, or something equally inane! And if it wasn't for Sir Frank Whittle you Yanks would probably still be back in the days of the Wright Brothers or worse yet, trying to harness geese-power to get from one county to the next!
Me: Yeah well, if it wasn't for that wonderful American great, Richard James, countless little British boys and girls wouldn't know the joy of waking up on Christmas morning to find a slinky under the tree!
Him: Is that all you've got?
Me: The car spun into the guardrail!
And so it goes, the story of our great love that spanned more than two decades and the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, and the one thing that still seperates us to this day is the English language.
