Lost in Translation...

So by now everyone probably has guessed that I’m a smart ass or brilliantly witty as some would say (ok, that was just me). So after having a couple martinis and writing my last blog (hey, it was the end of a hard week) – I thought I’d ante up again for some food for thought.

Work has been tough...tougher than I imagined it would be. In one week, I went from wondering when I was getting a desk, computer, and phone to knowing that I’m not going to be getting a desk, computer or phone. Knowledge is power and so it only took me 6 days to realize that, no, I won't be getting oriented, I have to ask questions as I go and fend for myself. Its all good.

However, I do feel the hardest part of my job is communication – and its not even with the Chinese – it is trying to understand the personalities and humor of the French, the Germans, The Swiss and the South Americans and damn them when they don’t get the quirky humor of this American.

So yeah, I know one shouldn’t joke about any baby’s paternity, but it is fun to talk a little smack to your friends and say “Whose yo baby daddy?” I know, it’s a little passé, but haven’t we all said that at one time or another? But I’m just sayin’ that you gotta be a little more pc at an International hospital. So when I went in to see this lovely German couple to see how everything was going and to check on baby – I thought it was safe to say –“Your baby is beautiful, you can definitely tell who daddy is” - I wish I could have shown you the priceless look on their face (and mine) when they replied deadpan “well, that was what we were expecting.” And trying to go back and explain what I really meant…yeah, too late. -1 pt for me.

So after that fiasco, my ego and brilliantly witty personality went somewhere into the abyss. That is until Saturday’s prenatal class and the summit of European parents walked in – with one Chilean couple thrown in for fun. It wasn’t helping my fragile ego that the morning was passing by with all of them staring at me and/or taking notes until we started talking about the actual delivery and if any of them had seen one “live.” Well as we were discussing smells and bodily fluids, I was debating whether or not to throw in the big guns with this crowd to get them to loosen up a little bit. But hey, what are they going to do, fire me? Since I think that would be my lucky day, I chuckle to myself and then lay it on them. The fans go wild! So remember, even in the remotest parts of Africa or the upscale London ‘hoods, this phrase never gets lost in translation… “Everybody poops.”