All Saints Day, which as far as Belgium is concerned may as well be known as All Saints Week. What this really means is that we have a week off for fall holiday, so my mom decided to fly out to Brussels for the week to come see me.
As we had planned, we met up at her hotel around 11:30, and we decided to go eat lunch downtown and roam the streets around Grand Place. Going to Grand Place is pretty much a requirement for first-time (and first-day) visitors of Brussels as it really is the center of Brussels, given the fact that you can walk in any direction and find a new store, restaurant, or monument eventually. The area itself is quite illustrious as well.
After our compulsory stroll, we took the 95 bus (a bus I ride every single day in Brussels) from the last stop to the stop in my neighborhood, which took 45 minutes. While my mom was trying her best not to pass out on the bus, I made sure to point out areas I frequent and important places to note when visiting.
When we arrived at the house, we were greeted to barks and howls by Milo and Matisse, the resident pups. It's the only way they know how to greet guests, and I made sure to remind my mom about this beforehand. As we entered the kitchen, my mom was welcomed with open arms, and we sat down to drink some wine with my host parents.
As a woman with many stories, many jokes, and subsequently many laughs, my mom seems to jive well with most people. I told my host mom a few days before that they would be very friendly as they had very similar character and interests. As it turned out, despite a highly evident language barrier and an impressive butchering of the French language, mom and host mom got along quite well. For some reason or another, my mom likes to tell stories about touchy subjects with practically anyone, so I was definitely nervous that some of the weird caveats and twists and turns in her tales would be (quite literally) lost in translation.
At the end of what was essentially a seamless bonding session, we were led to the conclusion that we probably could have tagged along with my host family to Italy; it was that good of a time. Not only did my real mother and temporary Belgian mother get along, but I can say with confidence that my relationship with my host parents improved as well. Things are definitely looking up as my time in Brussels winds down.