You know, so much has been happening, so many little things that I want to write about, but they get lost in the next little thing I find funny or annoying.
Let’s start with this weekend. It was Sparky’s birthday. Yay, Sparkles! He’s not a real big birthday guy so it was low key. Tilman came to visit which is always nice. Tilman made Sparky a birthday dinner –Tom Kah Gai – that was delish. So very good.
Tilman is always a pleasure. You know those people who for some odd reason are like family pretty much instantly. He knows where the towels are, how to make coffee and where the wine glasses are kept. It’s not just easy, it’s natural.
So armed with Tilman, we went to Sparky’s mother’s house for birthday coffee and cake. Oh I did mention that I made two different cakes. Note to self, when the directions say “Fill pan halfway” they don’t mean “Fill the pan all the way”. Orange cake disaster of 2009. I need to apply for Obama’s volcano monitoring program next time I bake a cake. Mausi I am not.
According to my dear MIL, I am only allowed American friends and as Tilman is MY friend he is thus American. T is German. Born, bred and very much in love with his country as I am in love with mine. However, Mutti and her sister were so impressed with his German skills that it took poor T almost 30 minutes with multiple repeats to explain he was actually German so his language skills should be that of a native.
Well, that threw them for a loop because if he’s German, why then are his English skills good enough to be friends with me? You know, the ignorant American in the room. I mean, it was one thing to snare Sparky, but that’s just because I used magic.
One of the best parts of being friends with non-native English speakers is re-learning English words and phrases. Words that I know, but used in much more creative and interesting ways than I normally use them. Not to say they are used incorrectly because they are not. They’re used beautifully, almost Flaubert like.
Anyway, Mutti fell in love with Tilman. I wasn’t sure if she wanted Sparky to divorce me and marry Tilman or if she wanted him for herself, but her fondness of the T-man, well, let’s just say I’ve never been privy to that level of admiration.
I sat there as they all talked, lost in my thoughts (my happy place). I created this Jerry Springer episode where Mutti seduced Tilman and had his baby at 73 using the octomom’s doctor. Sparky got jealous because he liked Tilman and Mutti, giving Sparky everything he has ever wanted, gave Tilman, regardless of the fact that Tilman is straight (and really, Tilman’s desires had no place in this scenario) to Sparky, but then that left the relationship between Mutti’s second child and Sparky kind of ambiguous – brother, uncle, step-father? And my role, why to sit there in my martyrdom, clucking about what Mutti wants, Mutti gets. After all, Sparky and I divorced so he could be with the one Mutti thought he ought to be with. It would be difficult, but I think I could drag the cross I put myself up on on to the stage. A little help from Steve, perhaps. And what would the big secret be during the show? You know the secret that has someone throwing a chair? I never got that far.
Poor Tilman. I sat there giggling and tried to explain to him the role I had created in which he and Sparky’s mother were an Item. I’m not quite sure he appreciated it, but there you go. He was busy engaging Mutti in a riveting conversation about communism because well, the secret is out, she might be a commie. I guess that could be the secret. It certainly upsets Sparky when he thinks about it.
See, Sparky married an American and Mutti is a commie. Mother and son doing the worst to each other.
Anyway, aside from making dinner for Sparky for his birthday, Tilman gave me a peaceful visit to my mother-in-law’s house. He took all the attention and for that I am extremely grateful. Not grateful enough not to make up sick scenarios about how he can keep Mutti busy for the next few visits, but grateful enough to keep them to myself.