More foreigners are coming to our house

I have a special place in my heart for British people. They gave us Monty Python, for one thing. And the Beatles. And they kinda sorta speak the same language we do.

I guess you could say I'm something of an Anglophile. Which is why next week, for the seventh year in a row, we will play host to a small group of British soccer coaches in our home.

These coaches will be running a British-themed soccer camp here in Wickliffe called – creatively enough – the British Soccer Camp. The camp is for kids ages 5 to 12, and my three youngest will be participating. It runs every morning for five days beginning this Monday.

I am the local coordinator for the camp, and instead of trying to find host families for the young Brits when they come to town, we selfishly have them stay at our house. They're always unfailingly polite, friendly and a lot of fun to be around.

They're also always unfailingly fit and athletic, as you might expect from soccer coaches. Which is why, when the company that runs the camp sends us bios of the coaches who will be staying with us, Terry's first question is always, "Are they cute?"

She asks this in a joking way, but I think she seriously wants to know. When describing past coaches who have stayed with us to her female friends, she will refer to them as "hot Johnny" and "Neal with the dreamy eyes." There was a time when I was the man in her life with the dreamy eyes. Oh well, that's the price of getting old, I guess.

Anyway, this will be the third time in less than a year that a group of foreigners has stayed in our home. Last September we hosted our friends the Jones Family from Australia. Then this past January we had two young Brazilians stay with us for 12 days. And now we're getting ready for yet another British Invasion.

The difference this year is that three coaches will be staying with us. In the past it has always been two, but there are so many kids signed up for camp this year that they're sending us three.

They'll be arriving at our house in two days, but I've already read their bios and know a little something about each one. Their names are Ben, Ben and James. Two things to note here:

• I can't believe they're sending us two guys named Ben. Can we make this any more confusing?
• When I first opened the email that contained the coaches' bios, I could have sworn that James' name was "Jerry." And I was genuinely thrilled that "Ben, Ben and Jerry" were coming to stay with us, wondering whether they might name an ice cream flavor after my family. Not that there's anything wrong with James' name, but I'll admit I was a little disappointed when I realized I had read that wrong.

All three boys this year are English, and all are in their early 20s. In the past we've had a couple of Scots, and at least one (our buddy Gus) was next to impossible to understand. His Glasgow accent was thick. He would say something and the kids would look to me for a translation, as if I could decipher what Jock McMarblemouth was saying. He was a nice guy, though, and eventually we all got pretty good at understanding him.

Anyway, as I've said before, I would recommend the hosting experience to anyone, especially if they have kids. The cross-cultural lessons are great, and having guests gives us an excuse to go out and do fun stuff we may not otherwise do. Every year, we take the coaches to a baseball game (usually the Indians if they're in town), out for a Japanese hibachi dinner, and to Coldstone Creamery to introduce them to the awesomeness of overpriced American ice cream.

I'm just hoping James doesn't mind when I inevitably call him Jerry or – and I guarantee this is going to happen – Ben. Like I said, there's a price to be paid for getting older.