Flying off to Switzerland for hockey was pretty crazy even by my standards. So crazy, that, out of shame, I decided not to tell anyone that I was going. OK, I’m not completely stupid! I did keep two friends abreast of my location and contact info via Facebook messages in the event of my disappearance. But as far as everyone else was concerned, I was at the (more believable) Flyers/Pens series during round one of the NHL playoffs.
For months nobody suspected a thing, until a careless mistake let the cat out of the bag…literally. I was visiting my parents in Waterloo (a.k.a RIM/Blackberry/Balsillie Mecca for those of you engrossed in the Phoenix drama), when a receipt from Zurich fell out of my purse. That’s right, I don’t clean out my purse. I didn’t notice that this happened, and went to bed for the night. The next morning my Mom was set on attack mode:
Mom: WHEN WERE YOU IN GERMANY!?!
Me: Umm… you tell me, you were there. (I was born in Germany)
Mom: I found THIS *shows receipt* on the kitchen table. It has your name on it and it’s in German.
Me: I wasn’t in Germany.
Mom: It says Zurich on it!
Me: Zurich isn’t in Germany.
Mom: Yes it is!!
Me: No, it’s not *tries to think of a reason to run out of the room*
[Pause: 5…4…3…2…1…]
Mom: SWITZERLAND! Why did you go to Switzerland?! I saw that the date was on my birthday and I remembered that you were away that weekend!
Relax, we weren’t celebrating her birthday that weekend. Do you think I’d miss my own mother’s birthday? Actually, I was in Columbus for Christmas, and Phoenix for Easter, so, yes, I probably would. Anyway, I was busted. But in all honesty, I dropped hints like a crazy mofo! I bought her birthday card while I was in Zurich. It had a picture of an angry looking bird on it, so, naturally, it reminded me of mother. Apart from the card saying Zurich on the back, I had written the entire inscription in German. How did I manage this you ask? Well, I had an interesting conversation with the manager of the card store, and asked him to teach me all the Swiss-German swear words. After a solid twenty minutes of brainstorming we managed to wish her a happy birthday in the most drawn out and obscene way possible.
Mom (reading card): Um…doesn’t this word mean “pig?”
Yes, it does.
