....No I didn't go to Vegas and win a big hand at Black-Jack.
I actually suck money butt at card playing, even when it's just for toothpicks - God help me if I ever have loads of food stuck between my teeth and the only option to getting a tooth pick depends upon my winning at Texas Hold 'Em or Black Jack! I'll have a teeth full of food - gross!!!
No, day before yesterday, I came home with the kids from school, and stayed outside with them for a little while, so they could run off some of that pent up energy.
While I'm sitting there watching the kids, and the expression on the faces of the neighbor's kids when they hear me talk - cause I'm an alien, who speaks in funny sounding language!
...seriously, that is how they look at me. However I'm pretty sure I'm the best looking alien they've ever seen, I mean my skin isn't green or anything. I'm a non-mutie type o' gal! They even laugh when I talk, and ask my kids "Ce zic?" (what'd she say?)
So anyway, as I'm sitting there minding my own business (actually trying to mind other people's too, but language barrier sucks), one of the neighbors in the adjoining building starts talking to me.
He's an older guy, wearing a funny wanna-be cowboy type hat, tinted glasses (sort of a rosy/red tint) that happen to blend perfectly with that 'I've got a drinking problem complexion'. PLUS he's missing teeth.
...don't I feel oh so special?
So he's talking to me, I can't understand him, not just cause of language barrier, but the lack of teeth, compounded with massive quantities of either wine or beer. Isabel can't understand what he's saying either, and she's fluent in RO!
He keeps invading my personal space (which is one of my pet peeves), and then he asks me how old I am, was shocked to find out I'm over 30, he thought I was like 24 (he did score brownie points there). He then compliments my blue eyes, and proceeds to tell me his wife is gone, and his kids are in England.
After he's said all this, as well as other stuff, of which I have no clue. Out comes a couple who just got married Saturday, I believe he was trying to tell me they were leaving for their honeymoon, as he made the international body language sign for 'bedroom wrestling'.
Thankfully my 3 year old son LOVES his mommy, about a minute after this "sign language" took place, Paul runs over to me, wraps himself around my leg looks up at the old man and pointedly tells him:
"Mommy mea! My Mommy!"
I got out of there as quick as possible. I wasn't scared and didn't feel threatened or anything like that, I actually found it humorous, but as I could smell some sort of alcoholic beverage on his breath, I decided that it would be better if I got the heck out of dodge as quickly as possible lest he start thinking I was enjoying his advances.
So lucky me, I won the "chicken dinner": being hit on by old man with no teeth, stinky breath, in a foreign language!
Now, aren't ya jealous???