the exploitation of a foreigner.
This past weekend I (Chad) headed out for a full day of golf in a local tournament. You can view my pic here on our instagram page, or by clicking the link to the right. This is not a story of my horrible golf game...but rather a story of Elmo and BoBo.
The day before, on Saturday, we found out that Elmo and Big Bird where going to be at a local restaurant. It was planned for Tricia to take the boys, as I was going to be away for the day. If you know H, he has a love, although fading, for Elmo.
Living here for the past two years we have learned a lot. One thing we have learned is to keep our expectations low. If I order something on the menu that says "Spaghetti" be prepared for a luke-warm dish of rice noodles with fish favored red looking sauce. In light of this wisdom, we did not tell H that he would see Elmo at the restaurant. We didn't want to get his hopes up. For "Spaghetti" does not always mean spaghetti in the sense that we know it.
On Sunday Tricia, a friend and the two boys taxied to the restaurant around lunch time. With the HOPEFUL expectation that the loveable and ever furry Elmo would be there, and H would be wide eyed and star-studded at the grander of the creature that would stand before him. "Spaghetti" was not spaghetti on this day.
They entered on the first floor and were told they could not go upstairs because there was a party up there. With No Elmo in sight, and smoke filling the room from other patrons, they decided to head to a different restaurant. Not more than a block away, an Asian lady comes running from behind. "Please, please. We want you to come back. I am throwing a birthday party for my son and we would love for you to be there," she said. Sort of caught off guard, they decided to go with her.
Once they made it to the second floor of the restaurant the paparazzi (at least 5 professional photographers) quickly encompassed the cute blonde foreign kids. It took a minute to figure out that there was an Elmo and Big Bird, in the form of decorations, and all for a boy named BoBo. Basically they crashed poor BoBo's birthday party. After too many pictures taken they finally left the restaurant and ate somewhere less dramatic.
Sorry BoBo, we forgot to introduce ourselves. We left the party a little early, I know.
The day before, on Saturday, we found out that Elmo and Big Bird where going to be at a local restaurant. It was planned for Tricia to take the boys, as I was going to be away for the day. If you know H, he has a love, although fading, for Elmo.
Living here for the past two years we have learned a lot. One thing we have learned is to keep our expectations low. If I order something on the menu that says "Spaghetti" be prepared for a luke-warm dish of rice noodles with fish favored red looking sauce. In light of this wisdom, we did not tell H that he would see Elmo at the restaurant. We didn't want to get his hopes up. For "Spaghetti" does not always mean spaghetti in the sense that we know it.
On Sunday Tricia, a friend and the two boys taxied to the restaurant around lunch time. With the HOPEFUL expectation that the loveable and ever furry Elmo would be there, and H would be wide eyed and star-studded at the grander of the creature that would stand before him. "Spaghetti" was not spaghetti on this day.
They entered on the first floor and were told they could not go upstairs because there was a party up there. With No Elmo in sight, and smoke filling the room from other patrons, they decided to head to a different restaurant. Not more than a block away, an Asian lady comes running from behind. "Please, please. We want you to come back. I am throwing a birthday party for my son and we would love for you to be there," she said. Sort of caught off guard, they decided to go with her.
Once they made it to the second floor of the restaurant the paparazzi (at least 5 professional photographers) quickly encompassed the cute blonde foreign kids. It took a minute to figure out that there was an Elmo and Big Bird, in the form of decorations, and all for a boy named BoBo. Basically they crashed poor BoBo's birthday party. After too many pictures taken they finally left the restaurant and ate somewhere less dramatic.
Sorry BoBo, we forgot to introduce ourselves. We left the party a little early, I know.
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