What happens in Toronto, stays in Toronto...??

I was thinking back to my family's trip to Toronto this past January, and recalled some odd behaviours I witnessed; well, besides nearly being plowed over at every turn (which of course I turned into a social experiment of sorts) by younger, hipper, more urban types. Indeed, I found myself side-stepping everyone and "excuse me's" ran from my mouth like a leaky faucet.

Spies like us...

One of the funnier places to people watch is definitely the subway. The conversations that take place between passengers were surprisingly unedited and bold. One of the more comical conversations took place between a twenty-something Jude Law look-a-like and a pretty, artsy-type blonde. Initially, they canoodled and flirted between stops, and I was pretty certain he was a little intoxicated by one or two stiff after work drinks. Anyway, he was fairly sure of his appeal, and stood thisclose to the young lady in question. Perhaps a little too close, as she was able to get a good glimpse of Jude ever so casually brushing his hand against the (ahem) bottom of an unsuspecting (and equally attractive) female passenger. Well, poor Jude had quite a time trying to convince his lady friend that he "absolutely did not do such a thing!!" Hubby and I had a good chuckle at the drama of it all, and I was ready to rat Jude out if blondie asked me to testify...

Hey Jude, you messed up this time. Not all blondes are dumb...!! I guess you found yourself a smart one...

Earlier in the day, I was in Jacadi Kids (and if you are at all familiar with this line, you'd know I was just browsing), when I tuned into a mother-toddler conversation that took the cake for absurdity. Said toddler was attempting to pick his nose and his perfectly coiffed mother was admonishing him. As she offered him a Kleenex, I nearly snorted with laughter as she instructed him to "invite the mucus out, honey" Say wha??? He was clearly as confused as I, for he asked, "Music mommy?" Not one to let it go and/or risk getting her hands dirty, she corrected him: "No Xavier (of course I remembered his name...), it is mucus. Say... muuu-kiss!" Good grief- poor, little Xavier. Is that what the urban toddlers call it? I guess that definitely rules out the use of "pee-pee" and the like for other scenarios...! Apparently oblivious to the snickering coming from me, she resumed her perusal of all the pedigreed clothing on hand.

Well, I guess I, and my country bumpkin children, had better stay where the air rosies your cheeks and where little kids call mucus a boogie; and Jude Law wouldn't get away so easily with his wandering eyes (and hands). I guess it's like the Lotto commercial: The Maritimes: where a million dollars gets you what a million should..."