English-English: Hash, Gash, and Stone

As every Bridget Jones fan (such as me) would attest, North American-English differs quite a bit from English-English. You know; washroom vs. loo, trunk vs. boot, and so on. Knowing this, I was still mollified by the sheer diversity when I moved to Germany, where the English of choice is of the British variety.

I received my awakening shortly after the move, when I needed to leave a message on hubby’s cell/mobile phone. I got the usual spiel: “You have just reached the O2 voice mailbox of (…) After the tone, record your message. To end, press hash, or hang up.”

What hubby would later hear is my short message, followed by some cursing whilst I pressed several random buttons. The problem was that I did not know what the hash key was. Was I supposed to look for a button on the telephone with a hemp plant on it? Or perhaps a button with a hash brown on it? Turns out that what I knew as the pound key is called the hash key by the Brits. Am I the only person in world that calls it the number sign key?
NB – I realise that the pound key would have been the logical choice. My mind, however, was at the time fried from the information overload familiar to amateur expats everywhere.

My next lesson on English-English came from hubby, who told me you do not call garbage garbage in the UK. You call it gash. Is that not a large, bleeding, cut wound? Not in the UK!

Then there is the measurement of weight in stone. Do bathroom scales in the UK tell weight loss in brimstone or granite? I was always tickled by this. We are living in the digital age, yet the Brits give the impression that they still hang out with Fred Flintstone. In fact, I purposely did not learn how that system works, so as to not lose the image of Wilma standing on a digital scale...
Fred: Honey you look great!
Wilma: Thanks, but I didn’t lose 4 stone like I hoped… I only lost 2 stone and 2 pebbles…

Puppy Love

In Langenhagen, Mika and Anna-Lena are in love. Following the overwhelming emotion pouring out of their hearts, they decided to elope. What better way to celebrate your love is there than to get away from the record low temps in Germany and tie the knot in Africa? Along with Anna-Lena’s sister (the planned witness to their wedding) they packed their bags for time under the sun and started to make their way to the airport.

Oh, and the betrothed are five and six years old. The witness is seven years old.

Aw. If this is not puppy love, I do not know what is.

As always, there are those grumpy sourpusses who claim that the parents of these children are irresponsible. After all, how could they let their children get out so easily during the night?

I think those sourpusses have not been loved enough. In this instance, I think it is safe to say that the children live in a very loving household; unlike this four year old that shot his babysitter for stepping on his foot. Children often reflect their parents’ attitudes and habits. Having said that, hubby and I should probably spend more time explaining that we hug and kiss a lot because we love each other, and that we do not do that with random strangers. Here is my little Romeo in action:


I cannot speak for those sourpusses, however I would much rather have my children piece together a somewhat cohesive plan to elope than violently attack their babysitter.

Happy New Year!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

I hope you all forgive me for my extreme tardiness. As you may gather from my previous post, our then-current circumstance promised a chaotic Christmas. And chaotic it was.

It all started on the 23rd. Shortly before lunch, hubby’s cell phone rang. He was needed in the UK and had only an hour and a half to make it to the airport. It was not certain if he would be able to fly home in time for Christmas.


I have prepared for birthdays and Christmases without hubby before. I thought I could handle it. I did not expect that our littlest one would slow me down so much. By mid-afternoon, I had no other choice. With a heavy heart, I called my mother-in-law for help. After a little bit of phone-tag, it was decided that we would celebrate Christmas at hubby’s aunt’s home. All I had to do was show up with our Santa Claus costume. That evening, I snuggled on our couch with a bag of pfeffernüsse and a steaming pot of Christmas tea and watched Love Actually. It was my calmest December 23rd in years.

On the morning of the 24th, I still had not found our Santa outfit. (Our attic remains an enigma to me. I may have packed the boxes, but hubby is the one who arranges the attic. I do not consider myself claustrophobic, but I cannot stand the small, dark, damp and dusty space.)

Around lunchtime, things started to look up. Hubby called to say that he was already waiting on the airplane. His flight would be 80 minutes delayed, but he would make it in time for Christmas and that was what mattered. Hubby’s aunt solved my Santa dilemma – she had an oversized red bathrobe. I just needed to stop by the drugstore to buy some cotton wool for Santa’s beard.

Then arose the battle of the sisters. About 30 minutes after my conversation with hubby’s aunt, my mother-in-law called saying that she was also just called by her sister and their conversation developed into a shouting match. Hence, she was now asking me to cancel Christmas Eve at her sister’s and hosting them myself. This was followed by a lot of he-said-she-said (or, rather, she-said-she-said). Eventually, all communication was done through me, as the sisters no longer wanted to speak with each other.

What Santa left outside our front door.

End result? I hosted Christmas Eve anyway. Hubby made it home on time. My mother-in-law contributed to dinner, as I had done no preparations. Santa did not make his traditional personal appearance, but rather knocked on the door and left the big sack of presents outside our front door. Our four- and five-year-old kids were confused by Santa’s quick getaway, but were satisfied with the explanation that Santa was especially busy this year and couldn’t stop by for long.

Dinner at my mother-in-law's on First Christmas Day.

Because my mother-in-law came, hubby’s aunt refused to come. She also skipped on First Christmas Day hosted by my mother-in-law who, in turn, skipped on Second Christmas Day at hubby’s aunt’s home. Oy vey.

Dinner at hubby's aunt's home on Second Christmas Day.

Thank goodness that our visits with my father-in-law’s side of the family on the 27th and 28th went smoothly. Spending time with our adorable niece makes me miss having a large family, and wish that she did not live so far from us.

Another victim to hubby’s sudden departure on the 23rd was our night at the opera on the 27th. We cancelled because we were not sure if he would make it back on time. Instead of The Magic Flute, at the end of this month we are going to see The Bat (I realise that it is not an opera but an operetta, but I’ll still count it as my first opera.) Hubby has warned me that it is a modern interpretation which he generally does not find enjoyable (apparently modern interpretations do not have the same general appeal that classical staging does), but for a night away from our army of children, we are open to anything.

We spent New Year’s Eve at our friends’ house, who themselves have a son who is four years old and a daughter who is two. It was an evening of firsts for me. This was the first time we truly celebrated New Year’s Eve in four years. They live outside of the city, so it was also the first (somewhat-) quiet New Year’s Eve in four years. I had my first raclette dinner ever, which I learnt is a popular New Year’s Eve dinner choice in Germany.

My first raclette dinner - yum!

The next morning I woke up to a blanket of snow! It was very thin, but a blanket nonetheless. The kids kept fighting over the shovel and broom.


What a wonderful start to the new year. I cannot wait to see what 2009 brings. My kids are already begging for our traditional January trip to the aquarium with Oma.

Now that I am all caught up, how about you? How were your holidays?

Weekend Summary

• I am almost finished Christmas shopping, which means I am on schedule. I always start Christmas shopping in September and try to have it all finished before the first Sunday of Advent. That way I can relaxedly bargain-hunt at the Christmas markets in December. All I have left to shop for this year are the two most difficult: my dad (who never asks for anything) and step-fathter-in-law (who has very specific tastes).

• Other than Christmas gift-shopping, I normally ban anything Christmas from our home until the first Sunday of Advent. Miraculously, the kids remembered where I hid the Christmas DVDs, and begged me to help them retrieve the films. The kids won in the end, mainly due to our second daughter's ability to bend Papa to her will by putting on her sad face. Works every time.

• Does anybody know a good recipe for edible playdough that you bake into cookies once they are shaped and does NOT include peanut butter? Last week I bought a wonderful premix from the grocery store. The kids had so much fun watching their creations bake in the oven and eating them afterward that I would like to make it a weekly activity, but I find the premix a little overpriced and I am sure it costs less than half to make it yourself. Unfortunately, all I can find are recipes that either include peanut butter, chocolate, or are not to be baked into cookies.

• Nick Jr. held a 24-hour Spongebob marathon. I do not think I need to explain the squabbling that ensued between parents and children when we tried to get them away from the television for lunch, our trip to the park, shopping, bath time and dinner.

• I have a gift certificate from last Christmas that I was not yet able to redeem and is only valid until the 31st of next month. We were finally able to find a show that agrees with both hubby's and my step-mother-in-law's work schedules, thank goodness. Barring any unforseen obstacles, we are going to the opera to see Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) on December 27th! Yay!
  

Weekend Summary

I survived my first single-mom-marathon after the arrival of baby #4! Needless to say, I am very tired; hence I am tapping my inner list-freak to summarise my weekend.

What put a smile on my face this weekend:

• Pleasantly surprised concierges - I always make a point of saying thank you. I suppose that does not occur often to a hotel concierege.
• A shortened single-mom-marathon - Hubby surprised me by catching an earlier flight home!
• As is tradition, he brought me home some yummy cheese and foie gras from Pa-ree.
• Baby said "mama" - I know he still does not associate the word with me, but it still makes my heart melt.
• Hubby's mom and step-dad - Always good for a nice kaffeetrinken.
• We went out visiting museums and random exhibits in the city. Upon seeing a case filled with crowns and tiaras, our younger daughter proclaimed to anyone who would listen that they belonged to mommy and papa because they are a king and queen.
• At no point did the children become uninterested or impatient in the museums and exhibits.
• Hearing that Bush claimed his favourite childhood book to be Eric Carle's "The Very Hungry Caterpillar". (The book was first published when Bush was in his twenties.)
  

What did NOT put a smile on my face this weekend:

• The Eurozone officially entered recession.
• My stores of Tim Hortons coffee are now completely depleted.
• Hubby's horrible hotel experience - First the hotel left him waiting outside the airport for the shuttle which was going to arrive "in ten minutes". It took over an hour for the shuttle to arrive. Secondly, he was first placed in a smoking room - despite his request for a non-smoking room. This mistake was very reluctantly rectified. Thirdly, there was patch of mould, about 75cm in diameter, right next to his bed. (All this at a four star hotel!)
• Dishonest people who cannot read - Upon hearing that he might be able to catch a delayed flight back home a day early, he spent between five and ten minutes away from his hotel room, at the front desk, to negotiate a free cancellation of his second night in person. He made sure he hung the do not disturb sign on the doorknob before leaving. When he returned, his bed was made up, and a 50 Euro note that he left on his bedside table was missing. The housekeeper was no where to be seen. Unfortunately, hubby could only place a formal complaint by risking losing the courtesy late check-in window that the airline offered him as an exception, so he left it as such.
  
• I forgot to recharge my batteries and had to leave my camera at home.
• The weather - I do not mind cold weather, but I do despise strong gusts of wind with spitting rain.
• An arrogant waitress - I do not care if you are having a bad day; you NEVER let it show to a customer!
• Hubby's aunt - She is completely oblivious and/or condescending to everything that does not interest her or conflicts with her priorities.
  
• CNNI - Enough with Tomb 33 already! It was interesting the first two times it aired, but that was weeks ago and it now seems to be aired with increasing frequency. Wait another six months and I will happily watch it again.
  
• Our planned road trip to the Harz Mountains - We had to postpone it for mid-December.

(Photo from AP)

Missing Hubby

Hubby is often away on business, and even though we’ve been married a while, we still have a hard time falling asleep alone. Yes, we are a cheesy couple.

Today, for the first time since our youngest was born in May, our home is Papa-free for more than his usual working hours. I have been feeling a little down all day, which is silly because he is flying back in two days.

Even when he is not out of the country, he still spends a lot of time at work. He, however, usually manages to be here for either breakfast or dinner, and he helps out around at home as much as he can. Now that our little army of rugrats has increased by one, there is so much more housework to do. I have not properly appreciated that fact until today, when hubby is not here to give his helping hand.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and makes our home seem bigger.

I suppose another reason that I feel crummy, other than the gloomy weather we had today, is that I wish I was in Paris with him. It appears I have adopted the need to travel several times each year – a trait integral to the collective German mentality.

I probably will not have the time to do much more than read a few blog posts and the news headlines as this single-mom-marathon continues. What is keeping me sane is our family road trip to the Harz Mountains on the 22nd. That and the cute little number I picked up for hubby’s visual pleasure; my way of saying thank you for all the help and support he has given me this past turbulent year.

The almost-plane-crash

This video left me awe-struck. At first glance I thought that this must have been a fake. Hubby, however, being the flying guy that he is, explained to me how this landing could have been possible with 90% luck and 10% skill. Apparently the pilot made as sure as humanly possible that the nose of the aircraft was pointing upwards. Utilising maximum thrust the fall was, to a limited extent, controlled. With all environmental factors coming to his aid (i.e. - no change in wind, etc.) the pilot managed to swing the aircraft body around using maximum vertical trim, and what he's got left from the ailerons.

Can you imagine what it would have been like in the cockpit? I would have gone into full panic, spluttering out an endless string of expletives like #*$% ^&#& $##@$ *@&*#*$ @##@*... enough to make George Carlin squirm in heaven. And I am sure that the pilot never wants to do that again.

ACORN and the perils of the uninformed vote

Kaffeetrinken with my in-laws always comes with the guarantee of a fun-filled discussion about politics, religion, the economy and/or ethics. (Well, perhaps not always fun-filled, but definitely interesting and passionate.) Today’s get-together did not disappoint.

My step-father-in-law, like most Germans, used to be crazy for everything American – the food, the buildings, the culture and, yes, the politics. Blinded by this love, he zealously shot down hubby’s doom-filled predictions for US economy and foreign policy after “Dubya’s” reelection. “Bush may not be the smartest, but the GOP would never allow for the decline of their country,” he said confidently.

He is now so turned off by recent American political events, that he followed this past election campaign without his usual level of interest. Among other things we had to explain all about “that ACORN business” – which solicited this question: Why would anyone court the vote from the uneducated, uninformed and uninterested?

ACORN’s aim to “get-out-the-vote” is fundamentally a noble one. Theoretically, the more people vote, the more democratic the outcome. The alleged “potential election fraud” by false vote registration cards was nothing more than a political manoeuvre. I would pay to see Mickey Mouse to show up at the polling station with valid identification in order to make use of that “fraudulent” registration. Hence, there is no way these false registrations will have any effect on the outcome.

With some of the recent, outlandish remarks by likely voters, my step-father-in-law raises an interesting aspect. Why is it beneficial to a democracy for people to cast a vote, and therewith influence the course of politics potentially substantially, based on utterly uninformed opinions and/or currently less central or irrelevant issues such as:

• Obama is a one-man terror cell.
• Obama is a Muslim.
• Obama is anti-American.
• Obama is a Marxist.

(I tried to find equally bizarre rumors about McCain, for balance. I was unsuccessful. I am not surprised.
UPDATE: LeftLeaningLady supplied me with a few; they are listed in the comments section.)

• Pro-Life vs. Pro-Choice
• The fact that Obama would be the first African-American President
• The fact that Palin would be the first elected female VP
• The fact that one candidate fought in a war and the other did not
• How many homes a candidate owns
• A non-American middle name

It disconcerts me that in the current economic climate some voters, such as Kevin Sheen, are solely centering their vote on abortion. I respect that to some people this is a very important issue, but I find it difficult to understand why this issue is so heavily weighted against the economy and foreign policy. Such debates find their roots in religious belief, and should stay there. For that very reason did the Founding Fathers of the US insist on the separation of church and state.

An uninformed vote adds no value to a democracy; in fact it subtracts, regardless of the political affiliation of said vote. But who would get to choose which vote is informed and which is not? The aim must be to educate, as comprehensively as possible, eligible voters of the political platforms out there. Desisting from perpetual attack ads one way or the other would be a first step. Instead, entering into an in-depth, respectful debate is far healthier and democratic than fear mongering.

The message should be: Get-out, get-informed, then vote.

How the world almost came to an end for Hubby

Hubby found out earlier today that he’s flying out the morning the election results are revealed, which sent him into an almost panic attack. He’s pulling out all stops to make sure he gets his election fix…


Honey?
Yes?

You bought me Burger King.
Yes, honey.

You never buy me Burger King.
Yes, honey.

You also bought me maple-glazed doughnuts.
Yes, honey.

You know I’m on a diet, right?
Yes, honey.

You’re not supposed to give in to my cravings.
I know, honey.

I’m trying to get back into my pre-pregnancy pants.
I know, honey.

And why did you buy a Colin Firth DVD?
I know you love him, dear.

And why did you get a foot-cooling lotion?
Because you’re always complaining how tired your feet are, and I think you deserve a nice massage.

Honey?
Yes?

Are you trying to bribe me?
Is it working?

What do you need?
Could you wake up and watch CNN early on the 5th, so you could tell me on my way to the airport what the election results are?

Ah…. A foot massage, eh?
Yes, dear.

Will you add a nice neck and shoulder massage?
Yes, dear.

Can we go out shopping for a new coat for me when you’re back?
Of course, dear.

Will you let me buy you and our boys matching outfits for this year’s Christmas photo?
**cringing** Yes, dear.

You’ve got yourself a live updater election morning.
I love you.

Love you too, dear.

(image from newsin3d.com)

I. WANT. THIS. BRA!!!

I have had four babies in nine years, and in all that time I have not found a nursing bra that exudes sexiness and sophistication. Until now. Gourmandise is a French lingerie company. But of course it took the French to manage catering to the raison de femme - practical AND sexy. English and French speakers can find the bra here, but only the ivory version. German speakers can find both the black and ivory versions here (they are launching their English site soon).


I normally refuse to spend extravagant amounts of money of items of clothing that will serve its purpose for a relatively limited amount of time, but this is worth every cent. Thank you Christina G.! Now I know what I want from my hubby for Christmas.

And now from one form of practical to another, here is the cleavage caddy:

I would never wear one of these, but the idea is funny.

Finding Mommy a new Man

On hubby's flight back home from Switzerland today, he sat a couple of rows away from a mother travelling alone with her two sons. As hubby passed them on the way back from the toilets, the older son, who looked about seven or eight years old, started to converse with him.

The conversation was typical small talk until the mother went to the toilets. The young boy then pulled out a piece of paper, wrote his home number on it and handed it to hubby saying: "My mommy needs a new man, so here's our phone number. Please give us a call if you like".

Hubby was understandably flabbergasted and managed to tell him, before his mother returned, that the mommy of his own kids might not like that. He told hubby to keep the number anyway.

I wonder if this child did this of his own accord, or if his mother gave him the idea somehow. In either case, he has a terrific sense of character. And he really cares for his mother.

Awwwww...

(photo from inmagine.com)

Cooking Lessons from a Convict

This past Saturday we finally had our belated Thanksgiving dinner (or, for the American readers, rather early). Growing up in a Filipino household, we did not observe this holiday as such - for my siblings and me it was like any other P.A. day. We either took our time doing our homework or spent all day playing with our Atari, Nintendo or Super Nintendo (God I am so OLD!).

When I met my husband, I was introduced to the wonderful smells of Thanksgiving. Turkey and potatoes and other "white people food" (I was a naïve child who grew up in a passively, mildly racist home) were such a wonderful change from the usual rice with ulam, and we have stayed faithful to the holiday ever since.

Having discovered the inner-housewife in me, I love to feed people until they need to roll all the way home. So, naturally, I invited our friends who knew what Thanksgiving was along with hubby's family. So far, so good. Then the pressure started - hubby's family and our German friends despised pumpkin. A couple other friends are vegetarian. Our American friend expressed that he was very excited to experience his first true Thanksgiving dinner in a long time. Yikes.

Hubby already knew how to make an awesome turkey with stuffing and gravy. The potatoes, corn, broccoli, etc. were simple enough. I turned to my trusty collection of Donna Hay cookbooks, where I found wonderful recipes for pumpkin and apple pie; easy to follow for a pie-novice such as myself. We adapted certain dishes to create a second that was vegetarian-friendly. All that was missing was an appropriate starter. I searched one of my favourite websites - recipezaar.com - and thus began my "cooking lessons from a convict", as an honourary uncle so graciously described it.

End result? Everyone loved everything! Hubby's turkey was amazing (as always), the pies were delicious (you can never go wrong with Donna Hay), and the convict delivered. Our American friend said it tasted as a true Thanksgiving dinner should. My biggest triumph, however, was that hubby's family and our German friends loved the pumpkin dishes, including hubby's carnivore step-dad who is allergic to most fruits and vegetables (too many vitamins!) and hubby's aunt who hates parsley. (I know hate is a strong word, but that is how she truly feels.)

I have been receiving lovely remarks on the pumpkin soup from friends. Here is the recipe (if you still are clueless as to who the convict is, you will find out now). I replaced the chicken stock with vegetable stock and used five cloves of garlic, and it still tasted heavenly.

From the Canadian to the US Election (nur auf englisch)

I'm not happy with the result of the Canadian election. The first words to come to mind are "waste of time". All that money spent on an election that pretty much resulted in maintaining the status quo. It's a shame the Green Party did not win a seat in Parliament - I was really rooting for May.

I'm sure that there are Conservatives celebrating the win. They now have more seats in the House of Commons. They believe that Canada is becoming ever more conservative. What do they have to say about the all-time low voter turn-out? It speaks to me of the population having lost its confidence in government and none of the major parties having the right answers for the problems at hand. It is possible that the same number of people voted Tory this year as in 2006.

Let's put everything into perspective: The Tories won 37% of the votes of 59% of registered voters which are 69% of the population. That means that 15% of the population supports Harper and 85% does not. (I hope the math makes sense!) Neither do the majorities of the three major urban centres. That is Harper's "mandate".

Oh well. What's done is done. Time to move on to the US!

I'm glad that CNNI runs repeats of the presidential debates. This third one is going to be interesting. The two candidates are going to be sitting down at a table with the moderator - similar to the Canadian Federal Leaders Debate earlier this month. As I said in this post, knowledge of key issues and communication skills will be much more in the spotlight. This might work against McCain, especially with all the name-calling ridiculousness that has defined his campaign as of late. It is much more difficult to insult your opponent whilst you are sitting down with him/her at the table than not facing him on a stage.

McCain needs this win against Obama. What can he do? Hubby suspects that he is going to try to pull off what Reagan did in his 1984 debate against Mondale. He was also trailing in the polls going in. In his closing statement, he did not summarise his plans should he be re-elected. Instead he went on talking a letter he wrote several years before, fondly remembering the beautiful California surroundings whilst he wrote it. He emphasised that the actions of the present will form the world that the people who open the capsule live in. He spoke of destructive powers, preserving freedom, and the "blessed planet called Earth". He used sentences like "...what they will say about us 100 years from now depends on how we keep our rendezvous with destiny", which mean nothing whilst sounding like something. It was sappy. It painted a beautiful picture. It spoke to the populace. And even though he was cut off, it was perfect. He was re-elected.

Reagan was the perfect candidate to deliver such a speech. He had all the training he needed from acting. He knew how and when to control his voice and mannerisms. McCain does not strike me as someone who can pull a similar stunt off. Take a look at this clip, watch McCain saying "Enh? Enh?", and I think you'll be inclined to agree. In either case, if this turns out to be his strategy, it will be interesting to see it unfold.

Now I'm off to bed, so that I can catch the debate re-run tomorrow morning.

The Pursuit of Attention - Part Two / Das Streben nach Aufmerksamkeit - Teil Zwei

Last Saturday I wrote about my occasional struggle to get hubby’s attention. To be fair, I can be just as irritating at times…

Hubby: Have you seen my white shirt?
Me: (reading a novel) Mm-hm.
You have?
Mm-hm.
You haven’t.
Mm-hm.
(groans) Are you listening to me?
Mm-hm.
I see. In that case, you should know that the kids didn’t hide the extra change you left on the counter. I took it so I could buy the latest Economist.
Mm-hm.
I gave the kids the rest of your favourite cookies.
Mm-hm.
(loudly) Honey, please, have you seen my white shirt?
Mm-hm.
(pauses, then in a whisper) I’ll give you a back and foot rub later.
(suddenly alert) What? Oh – I knew the kids didn’t hide the change, that you bought the Economist, and that you gave the kids the rest of the cookies. That’s why I hid the magazine from you – so I could get first read. Plus I took some change out of your wallet to go shopping for more cookies. Your shirt is hanging on our bedroom door underneath my pink blouse. And I’ll put the kids to bed a little earlier tonight for that massage you’re going to give me. (big smile)
Argh! If you were really listening, why didn’t you just answer my question right away?
Because Bridget's about to find out that Mark really loves her. (sighs)
(with a quirky smile) Admit it - you wanted a massage.
(smiles "innocently") Um, no. That was a bonus.





Am samstag habe ich über die Schwierigkeiten, die Aufmerksamkeit meines Schatzes zu erlangen, geschrieben. Ich kann manchmal genauso frustrierend sein...

Er: Hast du mein weißes Hemd gesehen?
Ich: (gerade ein Taschenbuch lesend) Mm-hm.
Hast du?
Mm-hm.
Hast du nicht.
Mm-hm.
(murrend) Hörst du mir überhaupt zu?
Mm-hm.
Verstehe. Also gut. Jetzt kann ich dir sagen, daß die Kinder dein Wechselgeld nicht versteckt haben. Ich hab's genommen, so daß ich den aktuellen Economist kaufen konnte.
Mm-hm.
Und ich habe den Kindern alle übergebliebenen Lieblingskekse von dir gegeben.
Mm-hm.
(lauter) Schatz, bitte! Hast du mein weißes Hemd gesehen, oder nicht?
Mm-hm.
(seufzt, dann geflüstert) Ich werde dir nacher eine Massage geben.
(sofort aufgeweckt) Was? Ach ja - ich wusste schon, daß die Kinder mein Wechselgeld nicht versteckt haben, daß du das Magazin gekauft hast, und den Rest meiner Lieblingkekse weggegeben hast. Deswegen habe ich das Magazin vor dir versteckt, so daß ich es wenigstens zuerst lesen kann. Ich habe auch ein paar Mäuse aus deiner Geldbörse geholt, um mehr Kekse zu kaufen. Dein Hemd hängt an der Schlafzimmertür, hinter meiner rosa Bluse. Ich werde die Kinder früher ins Bett bringen, so daß du genug Zeit hast, um meinen Rücken und Füße zu massieren. (lächelt groß)
Mann! Wenn du mir die ganze Zeit zugehört hast, warum hast du mir nicht gleich geanwortet?
Ich war mit dem Buch zu beschäftigt. Bridget findet gerade raus, daß Mark Darcy sie wirklich liebt. (Seuftz)
(Mit einem verschmitzten lächeln) Gib' es doch einfach zu: Du hattest es nur auf eine Massage abgesehen.
(lachend) Em, das war purer Zufall.

The Pursuit of Attention / Das Streben nach Aufmerksamkeit

Ugh. Men. Sometimes they drive me nuts… Women out there know what I’m talking about. Hubby and I just caught the final twenty minutes of Germany’s World Cup qualifier against Russia. I had just finished breastfeeding and needed hubby to burp baby so that I could go to the washroom. Here is how the conversation went:

Me: Honey?
Hubby: Hm?
Can you take the baby please? I need to go pee.
(doesn’t move) Hm.
So? Can you take him please?
(still fixated on the game) Hm.
Honey?
Hm?
Helloooo…..
Hm.
(loudly) Helllloooooo!
Hm.
(in a seductive whisper) I want you. Now.
(all attentively and suddenly facing me) What? Okay!
Argh! Are you kidding me?

He wasn’t, and to make matters more irritating, he isn’t a huge sports fan or a very patriotic German. When it comes to soccer, however, he’s proud of his black, red, and gold. Ugh.




Mann! Männer. Manchmal machen sie mich verrückt... Frauen wissen mit Sicherheit wovon ich spreche. Mein Schatz und ich haben uns gerade die letzten 20 Minuten des Deutschlandspiels gegen Russland angesehen. Ich hatte gerade fertig gestillt und wollte, daß er unser Baby mir kurz abnimmt, so daß ich zur Toilette gehen konnte. Hier ist wie das Gespräch ablief:

Ich: Schatz?
Er: Hm?
Kannst du mir bitte kurz das Baby abnehmen? Ich muss zur Toilette.
(ohne Bewegung) Hm.
Also? Kannst du ihn bitte nehmen?
(immer noch fixiert auf das Spiel) Hm.
Schatz?
Hm?
Halloooo?
Hm.
(lauter) Halloooooooo!
Hm.
(geflüstert in verführerischem Ton) Ich will Dich. Jetzt.
(vollständig geistesgegenwärtig und aufgeweckt) Was? Okay!
Mann! Das darf nicht wahr sein!

Was mich dabei am Meisten irritiert hat, ist daß er eigentlich weder ein großer Sportfreund ist noch besonders stark ausgeprägten Deutschlandpatriotismus hat. Wenn es jedoch um Fußball geht, dann ist er sehr stolz auf sein Schwarz, Rot und Gold. Mann!