We spent the night strolling through an area called Jardins, popping in and out of little spots… dinner, cappuccino, and beers.  I’ll need to do a separate post on this area seeing as it is lovely and inviting and famously expensive.  A location we will likely frequent when visitors come.

Before we moved to Brazil, I was worried about craving certain foods and missing the stateside version… one of them being cheese.  As it turns out, this dairy product is everywhere and I no longer have concerns about meeting my daily allowance.  Even my little brother Tim would be impressed.  Picture proof: meet my ‘cheese/chicken sandwich’

We arrived back to the hotel and there was a bag sitting on our table.  I paid no attention until my husband addressed me.

(husband)  What is this?  {a tad annoyed}

(me) I have no clue.

(husband)  These are my underwear and socks.

(me)  … {Why is he asking me if he already knows?}

(husband)  How is it possible that you turned in both of our clothes to be laundered, and the only things I really needed cleaned have been returned?  ALSO, I also have no idea what this note says.

(me)  I will google translate!

Google Translation:  I ask permission to seal four luecar ripper. su pour four different half of a half putuor free white cami and a pair seto eat catfish amaryllis

(Personally, I was a little bit confused by the ‘eat catfish’ part.)  From this we deduced that Jeffrey has four pairs of underwear with holes and a white t-shirt that they were asking permission to stitch.  He also turned in four mismatched socks that they requested to be paired.

I was wholeheartedly amused by the incident… Jeffrey suppressed both mild embarrassment and laughter as we pulled out his under garments one-by-one and inspected the tears.

(husband)  Why won’t they just wash my underwear?!