Wednesday 14 November 2012


We just got back from Poland with the King; a little background information for those of you not in the know, my husband is half Polish, which means the King flies the Polska flag with pride. He is even becoming aware that the Polish language is much more fun than English especially as Mommy only knows about four words (I fear that my future will contain many scenarios of me being the last to know). Although I'm increasing my vocabulary by the day (I can say thank you, good morning, and good butt...or shoe, I confuse the two) and can now count to five and say a whopping five words - most of which contain thirteen consonants each. 

Anyway, as for the King, after this last holiday, I’m pretty convinced the child is ready to pack and move to his ancestral country. There are of course many reasons for this, the primary being food related. For starters, my husband’s Polish family are some of the nicest, most welcoming people you will ever meet. What’s even better – in the King’s eyes – is that the entire family (always) greets you at the door bearing food, gifts (which contain food), and then more food after that. Most of these delights fall into the King’s favourite categories: meat, cheese, bread, and well, any combination of the three. I of course did not alert the King to the fact that Polish people exceed at making cakes, cupcakes and sweets of all varieties. [He’s hyper enough, god help me when he discovers that nugget of information]. Let me put it this way, Poland is not the country in which to start one’s diet.

Adding to this, wherever we went during our tour of the ancestral houses (this entails visiting every cousin the King has for a meal, often back to back meals which means, well, you better wear elastic pants) Lucian was given a small toy car. And here I was worried he’d be overwhelmed by the onslaught of familial faces; ten minutes into his visit with his great grandmother and he was laughing, clutching her face with both of his hands and stealing apple pieces off of her. And she even managed to forgive us for being heathens and not christening her grandchild. Well sort of, I couldn't understand her so she may have been cursing me for ruining her grandchild's chances to enter heaven.

The other part of our visit that made the King giddy with delight is that the entire city of Warsaw is under construction. I mean it’s a digger, roller, dump truck paradise and the King was driven through it in a heated car from the lofty vantage point of a carseat, with some groovy tunes on the radio blaring. Apparently it doesn’t get much better than this for a two year old…well perhaps a plate of pieroggi comes in a close second.

Happy Hump Day all. 

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