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Adventure 3: How Spanish Melted My Carpet

February 7, 2012

John, the husband, has been making fun of my adventures: “Seriously? You realize all your ideas of adventure are the same as a 12 year old boy’s”.

Perhaps the slingshooting of grapes or the sound of sharpening rocks for my tomahawk (that’s still a work in progress), is starting to rub him the wrong way. My immediate reaction to his statement was a bout of pouting, very similar, I might add, to a 12 year old boy. I guess I’m just a child at heart.

Every now and then, maybe once in a million, John is right. This was one of those times. So I switched gears a little and decided to focus on one of my other passions: language. This passion isn’t necessarily evident in this blog. I’m not trying to be poetic here. In fact, it’s mostly just word vomit, and for that, I apologize, but grammar and linguistics are actually fascinating to me.

I’ve always regretted being monolingual. I speak a smattering of French, enough to ask for a spoon when we were in Paris, but that’s my limit. To correct this horrible ignorance, John and I decided to start taking Spanish lessons through RocketSpanish online, scheduling an hour every week.

Saturday night, we hunkered down on the sofa while I had dinner cooking and espanoled our way through the lesson. Half an hour into said lesson, I hear a nasty fizzing sound coming from the kitchen where another adventure was boiling away on the stove. I won’t go into details, but the pot of boiling beer foamed over and made a horrible mess on the stovetop.

Idiot that I am (although an idiot with lighting reflexes), I grab a napkin and try to sop up the foam. The napkin, jerk that it is, catches fire like a little bastard, causing me to drop it onto the floor. I yell “AYUDA!” to John who comes over and puts out the mini fire, leaving behind a horrible splotch of melted carpet.

Lessons from this adventure: 1) Boiling beer is different from boiling water and 2) “Ayuda” means help and can really come in handy.

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