[h2][color=00a651]Rebekah Green[/color][/h2]

[color=f7976a]"but fish don't have fingers."[/color]  He said, then ran over to the couch and climbed up. It was the typically literal response she should have expected from him, but really, she reflected, the misunderstanding was her fault.

[color=00a651]"Ah, fish sticks!"[/color] Rebekah sighed as the toddler ran off. The exclamation worked as both a minor curse and as a correction [color=00a651]"Fish sticks. That is what you call them in America."[/color]

It truly was the small things that got her about moving to a new country. The big stuff, she could deal with, because it was big, in her face, and she was constantly being reminded of it. But the tiny cultural differences like what you called fish fingers? That was all to easy to forget and then mess up.

[color=f7941d]"Sorry about being late."[/color] Mary said as she came in. [color=f7941d]"A customer called at the last minute and I had to grow them some strawberries.  I grew some extras though." [/color]

[color=00a651]"Yeah, sure. No prob."[/color] Rebekah answered. [color=00a651]"Just keep him entertained for a bit. I'll be in the kitchen cooking the fish... sticks"[/color]