Expat Jon takes on the world (well... Sweden)

When I was high school age, one of my best friends in the world blew my mind in the grocery store.  She told me that what I had been putting on my "grilled cheese" sandwiches and "cheeseburgers" was not real  cheese.  I stopped in my tracks and promptly began arguing my case in the dairy aisle.       - Get outta here!  On the commercial they say it's cheese.  That's cheese! I continued my rant and she slowly, silently guided me over to the "cheese" section and picked up a package of my precious cheese.  There it was.  Cheese was right in front of my face.       - They don't even call it cheese themselves.  They call it cheese food.  Look. I investigated.  Dammit, I had been duped!  As an adult I realize the power of marketing.  They put the yellow product up and put it on a sandwich and a cute kid eats the sandwich and the viewer says that was cheese.  But on the commercial they were c...

In some aspects of our upbringing, Swedie and I couldn't be more different.  We have spoken about this a lot during the years.  We find some things out about how we were raised and are completely surprised.  My mom didn't let us eat candy until well after we had our permanent teeth (WHAT?!).  Swedie's dad stuck a piece of candy in her mouth when she was around six months old (WHAT?!)  Upon discovering some of these revelations, one of us may say:      - That's not happening with our kids. That was all okay when we were talking about a hypothetical child.  But now we have an actual breathing human being that we have to raise and it's time to make those compromises.  We're at the stage now where we're just feeling each other out.  It's round one and both fighters are just throwing jabs.  He's still too young for any disciplinary actions to take place, but we are already trying to get on the same page - rather write a page tog...