Yesterday, we joined a caravan of embassy families and took a trip to Cristalina, about 125km south of Brasilia. As the name indicates, the town is famous for being one of the largest centers of production and commerce of precious and semi-precious stones and crystals in Brazil. The road to get to the crystal mine tested the limits of our 4WD beast of a car, but I think everyone had a pretty good time.
Look! We forced our teenager out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8:00am to join us.
Practicing his studied indifference.
Reservoir near the mine
What's a geode factory without chickens?
So, remember my little boy in the orange t-shirt? Well, there were about 70 or so people in our group, so when we were at the restaurant, a churrascaria, my kids were scattered about, sitting with their friends. When the waiter came by to figure out the bill, I used my best portuguese to tell him what our drinks were and which children were mine in the room, so he wouldn't forget to add what they had to our bill. I pointed to the table of teenagers and he figured out which one was Jack "the tall skinny boy" (in portuguese, yay me!), and then when I pointed out Henry, the guy started laughing and turning red, but he did know immediately which one Henry was, so I figured I had done well with me developing language skills. You would think I'd have learned my lesson by now. As we were driving back home towards Brasilia, I picked up my English-Portuguese dictionary.
Which is when I discovered that I had told the waiter my other son is the one wearing an orange condom.