My aunt has been living in England for too long. I say this because she apologizes to inanimate objects. We were walking through Dillard's in Fort Lauderdale, and she crashed into a rack of handbags. The first words out of her mouth were: "I beg your pardon! Excuse me!"

If my Irish father did the same thing, he would probably say "whore!" under his breath. If my American mother did the same thing, she would probably say "Who put that fucking thing there?" at the top of her lungs.

We're not really separated by the same language—we're separated by attitudes.

Update: She did it again at the airport when she left: crashed into a Virgin Atlantic sign and apologized to it.