Your father and I will take you there after you learn to read and write. It’s important that you know our capital and feel the energy of your government at work.
They won’t be around much longer; there’s nothing like a day at a legendary ballpark.
I can’t tell you how many innocent British husbands I’ve awakened at ungodly hours to answer my calls from the United States. Their wives remind me, so I remind you, to check the time before calling overseas.
I have found that people appreciate even the clumsiest attempts at speaking their native language; it shows respect. Aside from ordinary greetings and pleasantries, these phrases are quite convenient to know: If traveling for work, “Can I get a receipt, please?” If traveling with smokers, “May we have an ashtray?” And, of course, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak French/Turkish/Russian/Japanese.”
Pushing someone into a pool is okay, but only the deep end.
It’s much easier to replace the lost passport when you have an accessible copy. You could also upload it to the web somewhere.
You will have many opportunities to savor these experiences at the family farm.
Go far enough that you see only water on one endless horizon. Turn the engines off. Listen to the ocean. Grasp the magnitude of this planet.
People who work for tips earn their livelihoods at your mercy. A tip is not a tool to coerce the server or hairstylist to indulge your whims; it’s simply the currency of service jobs. An adequate job requires a standard tip, and outstanding service is rewarded with a bigger one. Don’t think of a tip as a supplemental cost; it is as integral to your purchase as the tax you pay. This is something you will really embrace once you have the opportunity to slave away in a tip-earning position. Doing that job will teach you a genuine respect for service workers, and to tip generously.