I have lived in the UK for so long now - nearly half my life - that I hardly consider myself an expat anymore. I understand the etiquette of queuing. I can make a decent cup of tea and I can discuss the both the weather and driving conditions on the M25 with genuine enthusiasm when smalltalk is required. Sometimes, when I talk about the British I say "we".
When I had my first child three years ago, however, I was once again reminded I was living in a foreign country. The English childhood has certain rules and codes that are a mystery to me.