A comment my mom made on one of my blog posts the other day made me remember something funny that happened on my very first trip to Australia almost 13 years ago.
My exchange sister Lauren and I were going to her boyfriend (at the time) Michael’s house with Aaron. We were probably wagging (skipping) school to play video games since we were naughty like that, but it also could have been after school. Either way, Michael didn’t have his key.
“It’s ok, we keep a spare one under the pot plant,” Michael said.
“You have a POT PLANT???!!!!” I exclaimed, surprised. “Isn’t there a cop living right next door?”
“Um…yeah, he doesn’t care about our pot plant.” Michael told me, as the others looked at me strangely.
“That’s illegal where I come from. You can’t have pot plants in the U.S.” I told them.
“What?! Why? What’s wrong with pot plants? Pretty much everyone has them here.”
My eyes must have been as wide as saucers. Why would everyone have pot plants? I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
As I stood there, rather dumfounded, Michael lifted up a pot that contained a pretty flower.
“Oh, you mean POTTED plant.”
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Copyright 2013 Sheri Thomson
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