Monday, March 25, 2013

The Kicked-in Fence (or reinforcing Europe's stereotypes against American children)

Europe. My siblings and I didn't get a very good look at it before we got in trouble. I guess our immature, preteen minds couldn't handle the fact that we were on a whole different continent for the first time. In the weeks leading up to the trip, we had heard a lot from mom about how we were such good kids and how, apparently, there were a lot of stereotypes in Europe about how American kids were nasty little buggers. According to mom, we were the kids that would break that stereotype and prove them wrong. Unfortunately for mom, we proved them right within our first hour being on British soil.

It was a pretty rainy day when our flight landed, but I guess Europe is like that a lot. Dad had a seven week long business trip over there, and he took the rest of us along for the ride. We had a rental car waiting at the airport, and were living in a small flat for the duration of the trip. This required us to head over to the landlord's place to pick up the key. Mom and dad went into the building to get the keys and left the my brother, sister, and me in the car. That's where and when things went down.

To be fair, on a normal day, the three of us really were pretty good kids. None of us really got into much trouble or caused problems, no drinking or smoking or drugs, most of the time we didn't even really talk back to our parents. Like I said, usually pretty good kids. I guess something in the European air got into our heads and made a mess or something, because what happened next was just so out of left field and out of character.

The rain had mostly stopped, but it was still a really dreary, cloudy day. Mom and dad were taking forever to get the keys, and we were getting bored waiting in the car. Eventually, we all got out and were just standing around next to the car, looking around at what we could of this new world called Englad, which was simply this fence enclosed parking lot. It wasn't very impressive. Even the fence was grimy and run-down.

"You know what? We should kick down that fence." Amanda is the oldest sibling. Her fiery, red hair came with an matching attitude. As I said, none of us were really "bad" per se, but she definitely came the closest.

Mikeyy, the youngest, was just as confused with that idea as I was. Fortunately for us, we both were still in our right minds. Unfortunately for us, Amanda can be very convincing. For the longest time, Amanda has called Mikeyy her "mini me," because, while his personality is a lot more calm and mild, he does take after her a lot. Because of that, he was the first to go.

"Come on! It'll be doing them a favor. The fence is falling over anyway, we may as well help them out."

After Mikeyy was convinced and the kicking started, it was only a matter of time before the peer pressure became too much and the final domino fell. It was only after there was a fairly good sized hole in the fence that mom and dad came back outside with the keys.

We never got busted by the owner, and mom and dad never told, but we definitely took some heat from the both of them when we finally made it to the flat. For the rest of our time in England, we were pretty good--we were polite, drank our tea, held doors open for other people, etc, etc. I'm not saying they're always true, but I guess sometimes, there might be a little something to stereotypes.

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