Ins Kino gehen

Ella came home from school at lunchtime utterly crushed.  The girls in her class, she said, had taken her headband and were playing keep-away with it. And the teacher had blamed her for the fight! Everyone was mean! They hated her! She never wanted to go back to school again!  Can we go back to America? Tomorrow? This place is the worst!

I'm not sure how I feel about the kids going home from lunch.  On the one hand, I'd hate for her to have had to carry around all that angst and sorrow for several hours, but, on the other, it's awfully hard to deal soothe all those emotions and ply a child with food and get her back to school on time.  Especially with two squirrely little brothers in the background.  But I managed to calm her down mostly, or at least resign her to her fate of another 8 to 9 months here.  Still, it seemed like a good idea to walk her back to school and maybe check in with the teacher.

Ella has two teachers on a job share, and I'd actually never met this one (although Dennis had, several times).  She was kind as could be, however, and explained that it was all a big misunderstand, and that the girls felt really bad about teasing Ella and had tried to apologize, but Ella just hadn't understand their words.

Alex, conversely, had a great day.  Apparently his teacher
gives the kids these little glass jewels for good behavior,
and he came home, proud, with a fistful.  

And I'm sure that's true: as we approached the school, those girls had happily smiled and waved to Ella and ran up to her, and while I was talking to the teacher all the girls were crowding around Joey, playing with him, all while Ella proudly showed off her little brother (after swallowing her pride and apologizing to her teacher for crying in class).  While we were talking, the principal came to the teacher and informed her she'd be getting another little girl in her class: a little British girl who also speaks perfect German.

It's probably not a good idea to pin so many hopes on a random eight-year-old.  Ella was elated when the teacher told her, though, and I couldn't help feeling relieved, too.

We had another beautiful day here, and so the boys and I picked Ella up after her school and stayed at the playground, curled up with a book while the kids played.  But the best part of my day was still to come.  Dennis, kindly, noticed that maybe I don't get out enough, and offered to get the kids to bed while I took an evening to myself.

So I took myself downtown and did a little shopping for myself, spending a long, happy time in the English bookstore before going to an 8:30 movie.

I've been to a movie in Europe, but I'd forgotten an awful lot about the experience, probably because the movie was "Die Mummy" and it was eleven years ago.  So I'd forgotten how, when you buy your ticket, you get to choose an assigned seat in the theater.  (Perhaps they do this to justify the 19-franc ticket price?) I just agreed to the seat she offered me, and when I got to the theater I found it mostly empty, except for one row, mine, that was completely full except for my chair.  I decided to take a risk and sit in a different seat from my assignment.

I totally got away with it!

I also forgot that movies still have intermissions in Europe. So, at that critical moment when Adam Sandler was hit in the groin for the second time, the screen froze and was replaced by a 1950's still ad of a dancing Mr. Frostee: "It's time for ice cream!" (The movie, too, was in English, although it had both German and French subtitles.)

All told, with intermission, I didn't get home until past midnight, although, I was surprised to see, the streets were full and the Hauptbahnhopf, busy. I guess I've lived in the suburbs for a while.