Fitted sheets or feta cheese?

This weekend was full of activities - a birthday gathering, a baby shower, and a luau.  It was a great opportunity for me to get more used to gluten-free beer ... and get more sad about not being able to eat chicken fingers and cupcakes.  Regardless, it was a fun weekend and, as is always the case with the bloke, a learning experience.

When we hang out with the bloke's friends, I'm usually in the minority being an American.  The baby shower was no exception.  And as has been from the beginning, when we gather with the bloke's friends, it's always brought up how much more difficult his accent is to understand than the others' (including the Irish!).

A bit more about that.  While the bloke was courting me (how sweet!), he would call to arrange dates.  I wouldn't have a clue what he was saying!  So I would ask him to text me.  Before our first date, I was hanging out with some friends - a guy from London and his wife who lived in Scotland for awhile.  I was expressing my worry about not being able to understand the bloke, and my friend said, "As long as he's not from Glasgow, you'll be fine."  Turns out he's from Glasgow.

Keep in mind, the misunderstanding of accents works both ways.  It's not usually problematic unless we're both not understanding the other.  Fast forward to a few months after the first date and we're on a mini-vacation to the coast.  We're making up the bed at the house we were staying at.

the bird: I hate fitted sheets.
the bloke: Feta cheese?
the bird: Yeah, fitted sheets.  Because you never find out if you've put it on the wrong way until you've hooked three sides.
the bloke: [confusion on his face]
the bird: You know ... what we're doing right now.
the bloke: Oh, fitted sheets!  I thought you said feta cheese.
[we share a giggle]
the bloke: So why do you hate fitted sheets?
the bird: I don't know, it tastes sour.
the bloke: [confusion on his face, once again]
the bird: Did you say fitted sheets or feta cheese?
the bloke: Fitted sheets!
the bird: Feta cheese?
the bloke: Fitted sheets!

At this point, we always end up just spelling what we're trying to say.  To this day, we play the "fitted sheets/feta cheese game."  My accuracy has improved to about 75 percent.

Now combine the accent with the bloke's use of British words, and I'm oftentimes at a loss.  With this upcoming move, he's using vocabulary I've never heard before.  For example, he was vacuuming his place getting ready to show it to a prospective renter when he cut his finger and needed a Band-aid.  But when he comes in to the bathroom where I was showering, he says to me, "I cut my finger on the hoover and need plaster."  What on earth?!  I thought I was just mishearing him over the water, but that's indeed what he said.

At the baby shower, one of his friends asked me about the bungalow's garden.  I said, "It's a little late to plant this year, but we may start one next year."  It wasn't until hours later, when the bloke referred to our yard as the garden, that I realized the friend was not asking me about planting flowers and vegetables but about our yard.

Other gems from this weekend: we moved boxes out of the boot (trunk) and we packed using selotape (Scotch tape).

So, as a recap and vocabulary lesson:

American boot

British boot

American garden

British garden

American plaster

British plaster

I'm awaiting the day when the bloke runs an errand for me to pick up a new fitted sheet and comes home with feta cheese.

Love,
the bird (and the bloke)