It's Our Time to Shine
Speaking Norwegian.
“So…”, Bert began, still sitting on my bed. “What’re you gonna do today – anything special?”
“Well, not really”, I said, fumbling through my backpack. “First of all, I need to wake up properly. Then later, I think I’m gonna do some laundry. The clothes I’m wearing are the last pieces of clean clothing I have left.”
“Yeah, me too – I seriously need to wash some of my own clothes.”
I didn’t respond to the sentence, I just kept going through my backpack, looking for absolutely nothing.
“I could ask mom to do the laundry for us, though?”, Bert suggested with a curious look.
“No, thanks, it’s okay. I’ll do it myself.”
“Oh, okay. Uhm, then could you, like, uhm…”, he mumbled, obviously having trouble finishing his sentence as he sat next to me while fumbling with his hands.
“What?”, I asked, looking at Bert with a smile.
“Could you do my laundry too?”
“Of course! Sure I can.”
“Awesome! Thank you so much, babe. You just saved my day”, he giggled. “Even though I’m not worth shit doing laundry, I could try n’ help you if you wanna?”
“Sure. We’ll do it together”, I responded, well knowing that I never really had done any laundry myself during my life.
But of course, I didn’t tell Bert.
“Oh, Bert before I forget – I've finished that book I borrowed from you a couple of weeks ago.”
“Which book?”
“‘The Catcher In the Rye’.”
“Oh, yeah. Nah, you can have it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, totally. Take it”, he assured, putting his hand on mine which was resting next to me, before he gave me a smile.
“Thank you so much. It's actually become my favorite book.”
“Yeah, it's one of mine too.”
Again, this silence occurred between me and Bert.
His hand was still placed almost unnoticeable on mine as if he was afraid to touch, now rubbing his neck with hesitation.
“Wanna go downstairs?”, he began. “I think mom’s in the kitchen makin´ breakfast right now. I know you’re not that hungry in the morning just like me, but I swear to you, she makes the best fuckin´ French toast you’ve ever tasted!”
“Okay, let’s go”, I smiled as I followed him down to the living room.
Even though I wasn’t any hungry at all, the thought of delicious, crispy French toasts melting in my mouth made me crave for it so much that I just couldn’t turn the offer down.
As we came down to the living room, we were met with the most amazing scent as we saw Mrs. McCracken in her apron, carrying a large plate of French toasts before placing it on the dinner table.
“Good morning, love birds!”, she prattled, humming on a song.
“What did you say?”, Bert asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat down by the table.
“Oh, nothing – I just said good morning”, Mrs. McCracken replied while giving me a clever look before winking her eye.
“Yeah, good morning to you too, mom”, he said before signalizing me to sit down next to him.
“So, kids, how was your night – did you both sleep well?”
And before either one of us could answer, we suddenly heard screams coming from upstairs.
Man, I hate you guys! You’re such a pain in the ass! Fuck you!
“Oh, my…”, Mrs. McCracken gasped quietly, having a terrified look on her face, completely blown away by what Dan just said.
“I guess Quinn and Jepha got him pretty good!”, Bert burst out laughing.
“What on Earth are those three boys doing up there? Poor Daniel.”
“Nah, take it easy, mom. He’s used to it.”
“Well, either way, Robert, please go upstairs and tell them to come down. Breakfast is ready. And while you’re up, tell them to please mind their language. It is after all Sunday”, she said, clearly a bit shocked.
“Okay, mom, will do”, Bert muttered, getting up from where he was sitting by the dinner table and trudged up the stairs.
“Ahh, boys… What can you do?”, Mrs. McCracken sighed, having a resigned look upon her face as she looked at me with a smile.
“Boys will be boys, you know”, I replied, greeting her smile from the dinner table.
“Indeed they will.”
As we both saw Bert going upstairs, the noise only increased, now making them all yell each other’s names along with several thumps and bangs.
I assumed they were all wrestling as they usually did.
“So…”, Mrs. McCracken began, pouring lemonade into each of the glasses that were on the dinner table. “How did you become so close to the boys, sweetie?”
Her question caught me off guard and it took a couple of seconds before I finally responded.
“Uhm, I was actually at this festival back home in Norway where the guys were having a show. After the concert, I got in touch with Jepha backstage and for some reason, which I still haven’t been able to figure out yet, I found myself being in their tour bus. They asked me if I wanted to join them, which I of course wanted considering they were and still are my favorite band. So the rest is history.”
“Oh, so that’s where you’ve gotten that lovely accent of yours – from Norway?”
“Yes”, I answered blushing.
Even though I had been on tour with the guys for several months now and being around them 24/7, my English still had a Norwegian accent which I just couldn’t seem to shake off.
“Please – speak some Norwegian! I’d love to hear you say a few lines”, Mrs. McCracken begged as she took off her apron and sat down by the dinner table across from where I was sitting.
“No, I can’t. It’s so embarrassing”, I responded, feeling my cheeks getting warm.
“Just a couple of words, a sentence or two? Please – for me?”
“Okay”, I said, still blushing. “Hei, hvordan går det?”
Now she just sat there, completely blank as she was having an unreadable smile upon her face.
“Holy crap, Lina! That was awesome! Do it again”, I heard Bert say, coming from behind.
“Yes, it was marvelous – do speak again”, Mrs. McCracken agreed. “But, Robert, mind your language.”
“Oh, sorry, mom.”
I was completely shocked by the fact that they both seemed to enjoy listening Norwegian, the language which I’d been speaking for almost 19 years and had learned to hate.
“Well”, I began. “Did you understand what I just said?”
“I have no idea I’m afraid”, she responded, followed by Bert shaking his head as he was biting on a fingernail.
“It means ‘how are you’ or ‘how do you do’.”
“Oh, I see! And what do you answer if you say you’re doing fine”, Mrs. McCracken asked eagerly.
I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was very fascinated, something I had trouble understanding.
To me, the Norwegian words I just said were completely normal, but to her of course, it was something completely new.
“You either say ‘bra’ if you mean good or ‘jeg har det bra’ if you’re saying I am fine.”
“’Bra’! That’s so funny! So if you’re saying you’re having a good day, you’re actually having a ‘bra’ day?”, Bert laughed, almost having trouble breathing between the laughs he now had.
I saw that Mrs. McCracken was hiding a smile as she was looking over at her son.
“There, there, Robert. I’m sure the Norwegians have another point of view on how the word ‘bra’ is being used in a sentence, am I right, Lina?”
“Yeah, in fact you are. But sometimes, when we are asked that sort of question, we usually use the word ‘bra’ along with ‘god’. You pronounce it ‘guud’, though. I’m sorry, it’s hard to understand, basically because I’m really bad at explaining things”, I said, excusing myself.
“No, not at all! I thought you did a very bra, or shall I say god job”, Mrs. McCracken giggled, actually understanding the Norwegian sentence structure, before I gazed over at her as my smile met hers.
I was something about her that I adored.
Was it her motherly qualities – or the fact that she made everyone around her feel loved?
All I knew was that I loved Mrs. McCracken like if she were my own mother…
“Well, not really”, I said, fumbling through my backpack. “First of all, I need to wake up properly. Then later, I think I’m gonna do some laundry. The clothes I’m wearing are the last pieces of clean clothing I have left.”
“Yeah, me too – I seriously need to wash some of my own clothes.”
I didn’t respond to the sentence, I just kept going through my backpack, looking for absolutely nothing.
“I could ask mom to do the laundry for us, though?”, Bert suggested with a curious look.
“No, thanks, it’s okay. I’ll do it myself.”
“Oh, okay. Uhm, then could you, like, uhm…”, he mumbled, obviously having trouble finishing his sentence as he sat next to me while fumbling with his hands.
“What?”, I asked, looking at Bert with a smile.
“Could you do my laundry too?”
“Of course! Sure I can.”
“Awesome! Thank you so much, babe. You just saved my day”, he giggled. “Even though I’m not worth shit doing laundry, I could try n’ help you if you wanna?”
“Sure. We’ll do it together”, I responded, well knowing that I never really had done any laundry myself during my life.
But of course, I didn’t tell Bert.
“Oh, Bert before I forget – I've finished that book I borrowed from you a couple of weeks ago.”
“Which book?”
“‘The Catcher In the Rye’.”
“Oh, yeah. Nah, you can have it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, totally. Take it”, he assured, putting his hand on mine which was resting next to me, before he gave me a smile.
“Thank you so much. It's actually become my favorite book.”
“Yeah, it's one of mine too.”
Again, this silence occurred between me and Bert.
His hand was still placed almost unnoticeable on mine as if he was afraid to touch, now rubbing his neck with hesitation.
“Wanna go downstairs?”, he began. “I think mom’s in the kitchen makin´ breakfast right now. I know you’re not that hungry in the morning just like me, but I swear to you, she makes the best fuckin´ French toast you’ve ever tasted!”
“Okay, let’s go”, I smiled as I followed him down to the living room.
Even though I wasn’t any hungry at all, the thought of delicious, crispy French toasts melting in my mouth made me crave for it so much that I just couldn’t turn the offer down.
As we came down to the living room, we were met with the most amazing scent as we saw Mrs. McCracken in her apron, carrying a large plate of French toasts before placing it on the dinner table.
“Good morning, love birds!”, she prattled, humming on a song.
“What did you say?”, Bert asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat down by the table.
“Oh, nothing – I just said good morning”, Mrs. McCracken replied while giving me a clever look before winking her eye.
“Yeah, good morning to you too, mom”, he said before signalizing me to sit down next to him.
“So, kids, how was your night – did you both sleep well?”
And before either one of us could answer, we suddenly heard screams coming from upstairs.
Man, I hate you guys! You’re such a pain in the ass! Fuck you!
“Oh, my…”, Mrs. McCracken gasped quietly, having a terrified look on her face, completely blown away by what Dan just said.
“I guess Quinn and Jepha got him pretty good!”, Bert burst out laughing.
“What on Earth are those three boys doing up there? Poor Daniel.”
“Nah, take it easy, mom. He’s used to it.”
“Well, either way, Robert, please go upstairs and tell them to come down. Breakfast is ready. And while you’re up, tell them to please mind their language. It is after all Sunday”, she said, clearly a bit shocked.
“Okay, mom, will do”, Bert muttered, getting up from where he was sitting by the dinner table and trudged up the stairs.
“Ahh, boys… What can you do?”, Mrs. McCracken sighed, having a resigned look upon her face as she looked at me with a smile.
“Boys will be boys, you know”, I replied, greeting her smile from the dinner table.
“Indeed they will.”
As we both saw Bert going upstairs, the noise only increased, now making them all yell each other’s names along with several thumps and bangs.
I assumed they were all wrestling as they usually did.
“So…”, Mrs. McCracken began, pouring lemonade into each of the glasses that were on the dinner table. “How did you become so close to the boys, sweetie?”
Her question caught me off guard and it took a couple of seconds before I finally responded.
“Uhm, I was actually at this festival back home in Norway where the guys were having a show. After the concert, I got in touch with Jepha backstage and for some reason, which I still haven’t been able to figure out yet, I found myself being in their tour bus. They asked me if I wanted to join them, which I of course wanted considering they were and still are my favorite band. So the rest is history.”
“Oh, so that’s where you’ve gotten that lovely accent of yours – from Norway?”
“Yes”, I answered blushing.
Even though I had been on tour with the guys for several months now and being around them 24/7, my English still had a Norwegian accent which I just couldn’t seem to shake off.
“Please – speak some Norwegian! I’d love to hear you say a few lines”, Mrs. McCracken begged as she took off her apron and sat down by the dinner table across from where I was sitting.
“No, I can’t. It’s so embarrassing”, I responded, feeling my cheeks getting warm.
“Just a couple of words, a sentence or two? Please – for me?”
“Okay”, I said, still blushing. “Hei, hvordan går det?”
Now she just sat there, completely blank as she was having an unreadable smile upon her face.
“Holy crap, Lina! That was awesome! Do it again”, I heard Bert say, coming from behind.
“Yes, it was marvelous – do speak again”, Mrs. McCracken agreed. “But, Robert, mind your language.”
“Oh, sorry, mom.”
I was completely shocked by the fact that they both seemed to enjoy listening Norwegian, the language which I’d been speaking for almost 19 years and had learned to hate.
“Well”, I began. “Did you understand what I just said?”
“I have no idea I’m afraid”, she responded, followed by Bert shaking his head as he was biting on a fingernail.
“It means ‘how are you’ or ‘how do you do’.”
“Oh, I see! And what do you answer if you say you’re doing fine”, Mrs. McCracken asked eagerly.
I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was very fascinated, something I had trouble understanding.
To me, the Norwegian words I just said were completely normal, but to her of course, it was something completely new.
“You either say ‘bra’ if you mean good or ‘jeg har det bra’ if you’re saying I am fine.”
“’Bra’! That’s so funny! So if you’re saying you’re having a good day, you’re actually having a ‘bra’ day?”, Bert laughed, almost having trouble breathing between the laughs he now had.
I saw that Mrs. McCracken was hiding a smile as she was looking over at her son.
“There, there, Robert. I’m sure the Norwegians have another point of view on how the word ‘bra’ is being used in a sentence, am I right, Lina?”
“Yeah, in fact you are. But sometimes, when we are asked that sort of question, we usually use the word ‘bra’ along with ‘god’. You pronounce it ‘guud’, though. I’m sorry, it’s hard to understand, basically because I’m really bad at explaining things”, I said, excusing myself.
“No, not at all! I thought you did a very bra, or shall I say god job”, Mrs. McCracken giggled, actually understanding the Norwegian sentence structure, before I gazed over at her as my smile met hers.
I was something about her that I adored.
Was it her motherly qualities – or the fact that she made everyone around her feel loved?
All I knew was that I loved Mrs. McCracken like if she were my own mother…
♠ ♠ ♠
woah, this was kind of a long update when i think about it.ahaha. oh, well. ;D
and, yes; i had to put in some norwegian in this update.
gotta represent my own country, you know. ;]
btw; did you guys watch the inauguration of the new president yesterday?
i did. or, i tried. fucking time zones, making me stay up 'til 4am to watch it.
so, yeah; i fell asleep a couple of hours earlier. D:
but it was amazing what i got to see before i fell asleep.
i mean; not only is the bush administration gone now and the 44th president will enter,
but it's a black african american president.
is that amazing? oh, yes, it is. (: