That Face


The bald kid sent us a funny story the other day. Well, not funny “ha-ha” but funny odd, or funny dreadful–if you’re the mom in the story.

He told us that on one of his long train trips back and forth and up and down in this far away land, they stopped at a regular station and had to show their passports to the border patrol–as usual. Well, apparently my boy’s “Russian face” (whaat?!), Russian diction and American passport caused quite a hassle with the officials. They interrogated him forever because he seemed very suspicious somehow.

My boy. Suspicious. I must tell you here that this fellow is the very LEAST suspicious person on the face of the planet. I know, I’m his mom, but still…

ANYway, they brought the big dogs on the train to sniff through his whole travel compartment but of course, they found nothing. Once the dogs were finished the men tore through his personal luggage and made him explain every single article in it. He said the shake down and questions held up the whole train for about an hour and a half. All because of that…face. Who knew that my baby boy had a Russian face? Where’d he get that?

I don’t know about you, but this whole thing would have scared the wits out of me. But this guy? Oh, no. His response to the whole thing?
“It was great to have all the language practice. The whole process was sweet and I really enjoyed it!”

Who IS this guy.



8 Replies to “That Face”

  1. Love that boy! what a great story! Scary, yes but so good that he took it well. The Lord is with him. Anything that goes on has a purpose and good thing is, this purpose wasn’t a hard lesson this time! *whew
    sending him and you love love love till he gets home to share all that Russian sweetness with us πŸ˜‰

  2. Oh man! πŸ˜€ Haha! It must run in the family somewhere. I get asked if I’m Russian ALL THE TIME.

  3. Yeah, I’m sure there’s a ton of HARD lessons that he’s never told us. Every now and then he will mention that the week had a few scary moments, but he never explains it. He did tell his brother once that they were attacked by a taxi driver. I have to wonder, just how big was THAT guy–to risk mixing it up with my boy. The Bald kid mentioned something about a wrist lock, paying the correct fare and getting out unscathed.
    I say again…
    GIVE. ME. MY. BOY.
    Thank you very much.

  4. Do you really? That is so weird to me. Dane was told that he looked Lithuanian before he ever got to the country. The rest of us–who knows. I’ll claim the Scottish and Swedish…that’s it. Because I wish I had a cool accent to stroll around with. Wouldn’t that be the best? Let’s all just move to Scotland…shall we? πŸ˜€

  5. @Launi,
    Oh dear… I know it’s tough to give him up, especially when you’ve been blessed by a great big beautiful bald boy like him, but it’s alright because you aren’t giving him to the world. You’re giving him to God and the Lord needs more tools like him to do the Good Work! You don’t really want him to stop do you? πŸ˜‰
    Just keep breathing and remember that it’s all a journey full of blessings! <3 <3 <3 *hugs
    Hang in there, Launi! =D

  6. Oh, no, no. Of course I don’t want him doing anything other than exactly what he is doing. We have received soooo many blessings for the work that sweet guy is doing. I’m just fussing a bit over the thought of my baby boy–ok, my GIANT baby boy–facing danger. Believe me, I know he can take care of himself, and I also know that he is being protected. Even when he handles it all with such finesse, I still have to be the mom and worry.

    He’s like a great big, short-haired Bob Marley.
    His favorite phrase: “Hey Moot–it’s allllll good.”


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