Photo par moi."Dolly, guess who asked about you?" my grandfather asked my half asleep grandmother at 8 in the morning at the kitchen table. Not having taken her first sip of her coffee, she just looked at him, waiting for him to tell her who. "Dolly, you have to say 'who'." he insisted. "Who was asking for you." Irritated, she said "What?" forgetting his explicit instructions. "No, you have to say 'who'." he teased. "Who? Dolly, who?" she finally gave in. My grandfather looked left and looked right with a mischievous grin and said "No one! No one was asking about you!" while slapping his leg at the victory over annoying the shit out of my grandmother at 8 in the morning. A feat that isn't difficult to achieve. She gave my grandpa the 30 second death stare over her mug of coffee. He didn't care, he was too amused with himself and even I snuck in a few chuckles.
After coffee and exhausted by grandmother stressing about all of the things we needed to do before leaving on Tuesday, which in reality is nothing. I headed out for my run which I regretted letting my grandfather tag along. Trailing behind me, he kept chanting "Jiggla! Jiggla!" while I was struggling with my run on the soft sand. Can he not refer to my backside as jiggla, especially when I'm in motion? I know that its jiggla, jiggla but I don't need it announced when I am trying to remove said rumples of fat.
We returned to the villa where a letter was waiting for my grandpa; a bill of services rendered while we were staying in the villa. He opened it up and a look of confusion swept across his face. It was a 300 dollar phone bill. For one week. Because my grandparents are in bed by 8:30pm and the internet only works outside of their bedroom and can't make skype calls, bored, I made phone calls to Phil in Chicago, Kitty in New York and Terry in Los Angeles. I immediately confessed to the phone calls and said that I had no idea that my calls would add up to 300 dollars. My grandfather, who was clearly disturbed by this bill was ready to lock me down for a lecture about wasting money. Offering to just pay it instead would not be an option. "Are phone calls freeeeeee in Par-ee?" he launched into. A fine question to start off with and the expected answer would be no, but the thing is that overseas phone calls from landlines with telephone company Orange are in fact, free. I didn't expect these calls to cost nothing but 300 dollars for four 30 minute phone calls is insanity. I would have never imagined that and felt terrible. After enlightening him that phone calls are free where I have been living for the past two years, the discussion surprisingly came to a close. There wasn't much to say afterwards. He accepted my mistake, paid the bill and it was never brought up again. It was too easy. I never thought I'd say this but Orange, who are otherwise unhelpful and unfriendly saved by butt from what could have been a very long and demeaning lecture about money. Merci!
As irritating as my family has been because I'm not engaged, I don't live in New York and am not leading a 'normal' life, it has been nice to take a Parisian break to appreciate that my life abroad is pretty special. Accidentally, I am more understood in another country where I don't speak my native tongue and have adapted to my new culture after years of ups and downs. Sometimes taking some time away, makes you realize that home is where you plant your new roots. No matter which continent...
