You know you are in a special place in your life, your marriage, and your familial relationships, when you find yourself enjoying, with your in-laws, all the activities that make Amsterdam!

After settling into our apartment, we realized that there is no ground coffee for the coffee maker. Here begins the story. We figured we would find a convenience or grocery store during our wanderings and pick up some coffee.

While waiting outside our dinner restaurant for a side-walk table, my mother-in-law (MIL) spotted a “coffee shop”. Figuring that she shouldn’t be walking alone in Amsterdam, I went with her. The turn-style should have tipped me off! So, we walk up to the counter and my MIL starts talking to the “waiter”, or whatever he was. Simultaneously, I look down and find a “menu” and am suddenly realizing that we are not so much in a coffee shop, as…well…a shop selling Amsterdam’s favorite crop. My MIL is already engaged in the following conversation:

MIL: Do you sell individual bags?

Guy: No.

MIL: Oh, ok. We were hoping to buy a bag to take home and make in the morning.

Guy: No, you can only have it here.

MIL: Ok, thanks!

What’s hilarious is that the conversation worked perfectly on both levels. The participants, however, just happened to have very different perspectives…and desired outcomes.

For those of you already well-versed in the “coffee” culture of Amsterdam, I realize that I have just made myself a very attractive target for mockery. However, in my own defense, there are just as many “coffee” shops that actually sell coffee!

Now, back on the street, I am laughing and telling my MIL what really was for sale there. I suggest we go into the shop next door. I full out knew that we were walking into a sex shop. Less than a minute later, I hear, “Ohhh!! Joe would love this!” from behind my back.

In my memory, the next few seconds occur in slow-motion, taking an eternity to actually pass into reality. I turn around, un-controllable laughter already starting an internal battle with pure curiosity regarding what my MIL thinks her son would enjoy in the sex-shop and is suggesting to his wife! A myriad of possibilities are flashing before my eyes, both literally and figuratively as I turn. She has found a system for making boob-shaped pancakes. Yup, Joe probably would like that.

After struggling to recount the events of the last five minutes to the boys without crying or peeing my pants with laughter, my FIL claims that he knew exactly what the two of us were getting into. Classic. Thanks General.  So, what does any other family do after dinner while visiting Amsterdam? Well, hello? Head to the Red Light District, of course!

Sorry, no pictures to share. Walking through sex ladened, prostitute-lined streets with my husband and in-laws, one of which wears stars on his epaulettes, was experience enough. Taking pictures would have made the evening a little awkward!

Ironically, the Red Light District is the direct proximity of Amsterdam’s Oude Kerk (Old Church). After visiting the church the following day, I snapped this picture of the family. If you can find the prostitute, you can pick out a treat from the prize box!

My favorite part of the Oude Kerk were the choir stalls. Carved into the bottom of each chair is a proverb:

“Money doesn’t fall out of my arse”: money doesn’t grow on trees.

“It’s like trying to out-yawn an oven door”: a person can’t yawn as wide as an oven door, i.e. don’t try to accomplish the impossible.

When you step out of the church- just in case you forgot where you were- there is a little reminder in the sidewalk, bringing you back to reality. Back to the indulgences of Amsterdam!

In all seriousness, Amsterdam is more than boobs and bongs. The Anne Frank House is stirring, regardless of your familiarity with her diary. Sadly, very little of it is original. However, the moveable bookshelf and the pencil markings made by Otto Frank denoting the changing heights of Anne and her sister are still there. The magazine cut-outs and pictures that Anne glued to the walls of her bedroom are also preserved, but even more interesting are the stories behind the photos: who the people are, how they discovered themselves on the walls of Anne’s bedroom, and what they hope they meant to Anne.

Even more famous than Anne Frank are Amsterdam’s tulips.  If you can’t go during the spring bloom, the flower market is the next best thing. Almost any kind of flower you want, and of course….un-ending tulip bulbs!

Lastly, on your way out of the market, don’t forget to select your condom for the day night!