We’re from Kentucky.
It was really windy.
When I was 14 or 15, my parents and I went to San Francisco for the 4th of July. It was one incredible trip that I still talk about. But mostly I still talk about it because of this one experience:
My parents and I loved walking down all the streets looking at the amazing houses and just wished we could go inside one.
There was this one house that was being remodeled and the door was wide open. A construction worker was outside and my parents decided to ask him if we could go in the house.
He said, “Si.”
My parents are nuts and decided to go inside.
I pleaded with them, begging them not to go, but it was too late they were already in the doors. I walked in the foyer but that was all. My mom walked into the rooms in the main floor and my dad headed on upstairs for the grand tour.
But something started to hit my mom and I.
The house was still furnished. Paintings on the wall. Pictures on the table, jackets on the coat hanger.
This house, folks, was not vacant. And we soon found that out.
“Hi, can I help you?” said a woman who came in from another room.
My mom, thinking she was a real estate agent, said, “Oh, we’re just looking around, checking out this nice house.”
“This is a private residence!”
My dad with impeccable timing called from upstairs, “Nancy, there’s more up here!”
I was in utter horror. Shock. I couldn’t believe that this was really happening. We had walked into some lady’s house just because the man outside who clearly didn’t know English told us, “si.”
I grabbed my mom, she started apologizing over and over, called for my dad, we ran out of the house while my mom gave her last apology:
Oh, I’m sorry, we’re from Kentucky.
That explained it.
haha! That has to be one of the funniest stories I’ve ever heard… so so good
oh my gosh. hilarious!! I can totally see this. I laughed out loud 🙂
love it!