Before we left Germany, he had the idea to buy something we could take back home and make for a Halloween party to which we were invited.
Since he enjoys concocting such intricate plans and I enjoy baking, we picked up two boxes of Halloween cupcakes and scrupulously packed them back to Germany. (Let’s just say that space within our luggage is always tight when we return from the US. [Someday I just might post all of the crazy things we have actually returned with.])
While the cupcakes were fun to make (well, the squiggly brain shapes were pretty cool looking)…
I hadn’t anticipated just how sweet these foreign delectables would be. (They came from Aldi so they must meet German taste-bud standards, right?)
“Whatever,” I figured. “They look cool and everyone can scrape off excess frosting.”
We get to the party… it’s a costume party and I was 6-mos preggers, but would later learn more like 7-mos along, and I had decided to go as a knocked-up bunny. Basically my costume entailed black play-boy bunny ears with hot-pink trim, a bow-tie collar, cuffs, bunny-tail… and well… maternity clothes.
Kay didn’t dress up, so I thought I should at least get some points for making an effort. The real point is that I was pregnant and just a titch cranky.
All was going normal… as in, everyone was speaking German really fast in a loud and full room, and I understood about 5% of everything spoken (a high percentage when suffering from baby-brain). I have since learned that not understanding everything isn’t always a bad thing. Because the more I comprehend German, the more I don’t really want to hear what some people are saying.
As I was sitting next to the hostess, another woman walked up and sat on the other side. I didn’t hear the entire conversation, but I did hear when she lifted a cupcake, made a disgusted face and said “schrecklich.” Which translates to abominably awful, terrible, formidable, dreadful.
Not a description you want to hear about something you slaved over… while pregnant.
Now, I could have handled this in a few different ways:
1.) I could have piped up and said, “You could scrape off the frosting or even just… not eat it, Dummy.”
2.) Swiped the cupcake from her hands, pried her mouth open, and jammed the whole “schrecklich” thing down her throat while victoriously screaming, “How does it taste now, biotch?!” (Yeah, I was hormonal.)
3.) Or I could have just awkwardly sat there while the hostess tried to smooth things over and I would pretend not to understand.
Can you guess which option I went with?
Under normal hormonal circumstances and while in an English speaking country, I would have gone with number one; possibly even making a “Steel Magnolias” reference to a gray, armadillo grooms-cake and working in the quote, “Nothin’ like a good piece of ass.”
In my imagination, and considering my raging pregnancy hormones, I totally went with number two.
But being the polite guest that I am, I obviously went with number three.
While I do enjoy baking, a few things have happened since last year. Namely, my taste buds have changed and I too find dessert items from the US or recipes from the US too sweet... And I highly doubt that even I would be able to choke down one of those cupcakes from last year.
And I am no longer completely offended by that lady’s comment. However, I still think her word-choice was inconsiderate and ungrateful, and in the future she should probably think twice before opening her cupcake-hole to spout out such negativity.
But I’m not bitter. Just too painstakingly sweet, I guess.