Those who know me (no doubt already smirking) will be aware that I am not one to hold back when it comes to issues I feel strongly about. Be it a political, a moral or an ethical stance, I usually have something to say. Germans, in my experience, and you may be surprised to read this, tend to air on the side of caution when it comes to voicing their opinions too vehemently. I'm guessing that's history bashing them on the head again. So, when one of my bugbears raised its loathsome head in our beautiful, idyllic village, more than a few Teutonic eyebrows were raised. I suspect my dye has now been truly cast as the "Vacky English Voman von ze old house on ze corner". Best avoided unless you need something translated and even then you should tread carefully if there happens to be a full moon!
I digress, the reason for my tirade on this occasion? Graffiti. I have a hatred of graffiti that my tolerant and gentle husband considers to be borderline psychotic. I stand by my guns. Those who deface other people's property have no place in decent society.It appeared overnight and, according to long standing residents, for the very first time in the history of the village. Our home had thankfully been spared this vandalism but many had not. Oh how I ranted, all the way to kindergarten with Finje and my husband and all the way back. Picking her up four hours later I hadn't let it drop. Finje, of course had been listening carefully. Perhaps a little too carefully. Mumfail strikes again.
The indication that I may have gone a smidgen too far came, as so often it does, too late. That afternoon I was still venting my spleen over coffee and cake (one of the many German traditions that make living here so agreeable) with a neighbour. Her two boys and Finje were playing happily and peacefully together in the garden as we discussed village criminality.
During said converstaion, Finje's innocent little head popped up out of the sand pit to exclaim,
"Ja, and Mama wants to cut off their balloons with a rustical knife!"
Well, there you have it, not quite word for word but the definite makings of a mimi-me. I was so proud (brushes away a tear).
Oh and if you were wondering, the culprits were found within 24 hours and have been ordered to clean up their mess. I hope for their sake I'm out that day!
More:Is It Just Me?
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