Brazilian Khunying

Well. I found her. Last night Jasper was invited to a Birthday party, and oh boy...
His new school seems to be a breeding ground for rich, vain, and image-obsessed parents. The Khunying in question had her hair styled into the biggest, crunchiest, helmet I have seen yet in my Brazil days; big enough to rival the haughtiest Khunying in Thailand. Ironically enough, she was one of the few who was taking the time to spend time with the child in her charge. The hostess of the party had been augmented completely out of proportion, and was obviously keen to show it off. Her blouse was cut as low as decently (or actually not so decently) possible. I wonder how she picked up her daughter without her saline wonders popping out to greet the partygoers. The men, on the other hand, seem to have had a massive throwback to the 80's. Hair styled and swooped into place, a few who had already spent some time at the hair club for men, and collars turned up - with Don Johnson being emulated at every turn. It appeared to me that these people were floating in a sea of white. That sea of course being made up by vast numbers of babas dressed head to toe in the requisite white, undulating in waves after the coddled children in their charge. Next time I think I had better wear white too. I spent the majority of the evening with one of them, who is an intelligent delight, and full of insight into the ways of the rich Brazilian. Oh yes, and Japser - the reason we were all there. Well, in my champage-induced haze (oh yes - take your choice - champage, whiskey, beer, or coke. No juice - for god's sake this was a kid's party) it appeared that Jasper reached the essence of a hyper-active, coke-induced party-time high. His favourite diversion all night was a shooting game, which although at first I highly disapproved of, I rather came to enjoy. We worked together to get rid of all the "bad guys" and I am embarassingly proud to say I managed to get us to level three by shooting about 150 of those evil men. Sadly, in my bloodlust, I did manage to take out three civilians, but I barely felt any remorse. I am worried, however, as I also felt minimal remorse at making no effort to meet and thank our hosts. Oh god - could it be? No! I can't be turning Brazilian, can I?