In addition to meeting The Swede’s YOUNGEST daughter, I also got to meet his ELDEST daughter.
And his parents.
It was quite an experience, although if I think back, I did introduce him to my sons and my parents when we were going to UnSCruz together.
Of course, with the language barrier, there was only so much communicating we could do.
Most of our interactions consisted of them feeding me and me saying “tack” or “thank you” in Swedish.
His mother cooked THE MOST AMAZING PORK LOIN for dinner one night.
I’m used to pork turning out dry and in desperate need of gravy.
But this was OUTSTANDING.
I tried to communicate my appreciation.
“Thank you very much,” I said in Swedish.
His parents home was like something out of a dream – a fairytale cottage with an explosion of Christmas decorations inside.
I sneaked a picture of The Swede as a little boy.
And one of his youngest daughter in pigtails.
Too cute for words.
As we were going to bed (in a bed only SLIGHTLY LARGER than a twin bed), The Swede began to chat with his father in the room next door.
Through the walls.
All my plans for nookie disappeared.
When you can hear your neighbor that PERFECTLY, there’s no space for fooling around.
I may be horny but I’m not disrespectful.