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.
German obscenities are the best. Nudlaug! Backpfeifengesicht! Ich habe eine große Wurst in meiner Lederhosen! Wo ist der Bahnhof?
That is hilarious. NICE JOB, MOM.
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[...] I was travelling on my own throughout the States. I figured she must just be used to it by now – maybe when she discovered that I had disappeared to Europe for four days without telling anyone, she let go of whatever reigns she thinks she was holding. Nope! When I walked into my room, the [...]