Lost in Translation

I woke up this morning to a screen-shot of a conversation between Justin and the guys he works with.

“Why did [a student] tell me that he thinks [Justin] has nice breast!”

“[Another student] said that too.”

They aren’t wrong–my husband has great boobs. Or, pecs. This summer I had to explain this to Xander after he started asking, “what do I have to do to get boobs like Dad?” Oh gosh, pecs, my dear. Men call them pecs.

This also isn’t the first time that hilarity has ensued at Justin’s new(ish) job. While he tells me that most of them speak better English than he does, there are still plenty of awkward moments.

Last week, Justin shared a snippet of a review a student gave of the course. What could the instructor improve: “Makes me hard.” Hmm

I am constantly left thinking of The Princess Bride: “I do not think it means what you think it means.”

There was also the student who wrote “I died on Friday,” which I can relate to, because it’s usually my statement after every Torture with Terry session. I. Died. I can picture at least 5 young ladies at the pool making that same statement, “OMG, I died on Friday.”

Justin, you might just have the most comical job ever.