Yesterday I wrote about my addiction to language. And how before our trip to England, I drove Charlie crazy by obsessing over everything related to the British and their form of English.

Well, now it’s time for me to tell “the rest of the story.”

We flew into London in October of 2005. I’d traveled a lot, but always to non-English-speaking countries. Now I was wide-eyed with wonder. Here I understood the language (mostly), but so much else was different. Vehicles I’d never heard of, different clothes, and such politeness!

Two days into the trip, I was riding in the back seat of a little Peugeot four-door. Charlie rode in the front passenger seat on the LEFT (still weird to me). Our pastor friend Simon was driving. I had only just met Simon, but he and Charlie were buddies, so they were deep in conversation about church administration. Whee. In spite of my intense interest in the topic, I started to doze.

Somewhere between awake and sleeping, I was struck with a brilliant idea. I would ask SIMON about a British term that I’d seen on a street sign one day before. It had read, “Caution, Rising Bollards.” At the time we could see nothing that was rising or about to rise, so we were stumped. Suddenly I knew that now was the PERFECT time to ask a Brit.

“SIMON, I BET YOU CAN TELL ME: WHAT ARE RISING BOLLARDS?”

Long pause. Oops, I didn’t notice that I’d interrupted. Loudly. I sat up.

Hmmm. Both guys were now looking at each other wide-eyed. That didn’t fit with just an interruption….

Then Simon’s mouth started to curve up a little.

And I realized that I had NOT said “Bollards.”

I had said, in a loud voice that halted their conversation,

“SIMON, WHAT ARE RISING *BOLLOCKS?”

I was now WIDE AWAKE. At this point, Simon smiled,

“Perhaps you should ask your husband about that.”

Oh, somebody shoot me. Just shoot me now.

*a British term for a part of the male anatomy

Epilogue: I blushed. Everyone laughed. We shared the story with Simon’s wife Ally when we got to our destination. She laughed. They both still wanted to be our friends. Our families are now very close. But I can promise that it’s NOT because I impressed them with my genius.