Bicycle, Bicycle!!

My Father-In-Law is truely one of the most wonderful people I know. He is this lovely little Russian man who works on cars for a living and always seems to have Engine grease under his nails. He drinks beer and vodka liberally and dotes on his little Yorkie Charlie like it was his own child. He is not my husbands biological father, but he stepped up to the plate and loves my husband like his own. I love him even more for that.

Though there is a clear language barrier between my In-laws and myself, my FIL has always made great efforts to make me feel included. He taught me to play the family's version of Gin Rummy(See Cunt for a full description of the insanity) and took my under his wing as his apprentice. The more the beer would flow, the crazier his antics got. He is obviously still madly in love with my Mother-In-Law and after beating her in a particularly intense hand, he would jump up and bury his head in her bosom, his arms wrapped around her waist as she beat him about the head and cursed him in Russian, much to the delight of the rest of the family. After weeks of watching everyone play, my FIL started to let me help with his hand. He would use the down time to show off his English skills, bringing uproarious laughter from the rest of the family.

Those few words consisted mainly of "You speak English??" "Do you want (point)??" various curses and "Bicycle, Bicycle". Many a laugh was produced during a particularly serious game when he would sit there, intensely studying his cards and then all of a sudden mutter "Bicycle!! Bicycle!"

When I became pregnant, there was a huge fuss about the fact that my Mother was coming from the States to help with the baby. Our families had not met yet and everyone was thrilled to finally meet her. One night my SIL asked my FIL what he would say to my Mother at the airport when they met for the first times. After thinking over his cards for a few moments he looked up and exclaimed "You speak English??? You have Bicycle?? F*ck You!!!"