To be… or not to be promised, I return from London with a belly full o’ ale, fish and chippies. The vacation with my husband was a well-deserved break from mom-dom life with teens. (Insert audible expression here.)
Thankfully, it was a huge success according to my waistband, interpreted as more than enough walking overrode the amount of fried fish and alcohol.
Within the first hour, my husband noticed a change in me. Other than my overall mood and the weight of 1,000 middle school homework assignments released from my shoulders, something interesting occurred. I started to giggle. Often.
My husband, who wanted to be included in my fun, kept asking me every few minutes in our hotel room what was so funny.
“Well, it’s this light switch thingy,” I said moving my head from side to side. “You put your room card in it and then the lights work? Huh… that’s kinda funny.”
A bit later, when I’m in the shower, another giggle is heard. No, I didn’t see myself in the mirror, but a glass door only protected the front half of the shower and the two handles on the wall completely perplexed me. I figured shower controls were similar to the United States, where one was for water temperature and the other controlled the showerhead. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Unfortunately, it took several days to master, but it was still kinda funny.
After my shower, it was time for a spot of tea or coffee. The cute teapot with a long cord produced a giggle from me since it was in the closet and there wasn’t a place to plug it in. Of course it took an electrical engineer to pick up the pot and move it to the table across the room and plug it in. Thank goodness he was there. Mama needs her coffee after staying awake 24 hours.
Then the darling coffee creamers made me say, “Huh, it says ‘semi skimmed milk.’ They didn’t have time to skim the other remaining part?” I laughed again. After wrangling the hair dryer, which didn’t have an on/off button that would remain depressed like back home, I managed to dry my hair into a style that closely resembled any band member from the 1974 band the Bay City Rollers.
Next we were off to dinner. Our plan was to find the best fish and chips in London. What we didn’t realize is that “mushed” peas came with it at every stop. Yes, peas that were smooshed into baby food consistency were presented every time. Not very attractive picture; and more so, I have a life-long aversion to peas in their natural state. As a child, I was forced to eat my frozen peas and carrots.
Of course, we did more in London then complain about their pea fixation. We saw several West End productions. It is London’s version of Broadway, and the talent was incredible. We visited all of the sites and were gob-smacked by the amount of history that can be thrown at you merely over five days. We could have given bus tours of London by the end of our trip.
The only negative thing that occurred was I kind of got mugged. Don’t worry, no one was harmed and the guy didn’t get away with my wallet or passport. I had been warned there could be pickpockets on the Tube, or subway, so when I felt a man thump my bag from the bottom, I thought something popped out. So I looked at the man’s face and checked to make sure my wallet was still there. Thankfully it was.
It wasn’t until later I realized this Oliver Twist stole my only copy of a pre-released and gifted book from my father. It was my dad’s first published book, and I was finally going to have free time to read it on the plane. I hope that British subway scoundrel enjoys a fascinating tale of my great grandfather, who discovered a Kansas dinosaur; and first started the current scientific method of cleaning of bird bones for natural history museums by using by beetles.
Even with this disappointment, my first London trip was a huge success. Plus, I helped in facilitating the international release of “Birds, Bones and Beetles.” I guess that’s kinda funny, too.
Stacey Hatton can be found avoiding all mushed vegetables and Dickensian characters at firstname.lastname@example.org.