The first thing you mutter when you leave the airport is, “Fuck, it’s cold.”
The stranger in the washroom who misses bumping into you by a few millimetres still says a heartfelt, “Oh, I’m sorry!”
You use millimetres as your measurement unit in a sentence.
You spell millimetres the French way.
You write washroom instead of restroom in your blog post.
You pass by no less than five Tim Hortons on the drive home.
You ponder the snack aisle at Wal-Mart and notice that ketchup-flavored chips, Maltesers, and Cadbury fingers are part of the selection.
The guy at Wal-Mart who nearly bumps into you says a heartfelt, “Oh, I’m sorry!”
Your Bank of America debit card can only be processed as a credit card.
You find yourself at an ice hockey game unexpectedly and mutter, “Fuck, it’s cold.”
You overhear people discussing Canada’s win over the U.S. in the Olympic gold medal hockey game and realize it’s not boastfulness you’re hearing in their voices… it’s relief.
You wonder why your wallet’s so heavy and realize it’s filled with toonies and loonies.
A tank of gas which would have cost $35 in the U.S. costs $50.
The stranger who nearly bumps into you in the restaurant washroom says a heartfelt, “Oh, I’m sorry!”
You order an iced tea and it comes sweetened already.
You say thank you when the server brings your meal and he doesn’t say, “Uh huh.” He says, “You’re welcome.”
You complain about the cold to your best friend and she laughs at you and says, “Actually, it’s nice out.”
Your best friend tells you it’s been way too long since she last saw you, and you respond with, “I know, eh?”
Man, it’s good to be home.