Busy, Busy

Poor Dennis fell victim today to yet another barrage of Swiss germs. Tummy trouble, this time, and we've run out of the Pepto, so I took Joey to the store to see what I could find for him.  I went to two apothecaries: neither had ever heard of Pepto ("Das is von Ausland, eh?").  The first pharmacist handed back the bottle with a dismissive shrug, and I decided not to try any harder.  While I could probably have communicated Dennis's symptoms through some sort of elaborate and disgusting charades (I really must spend some time on Google Translate before heading out on these errands) I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  I do have my limits, apparently.

The second pharmacist was more helpful: she looked up the active ingredients and gave me the Swiss remedy, which I passed along to my napping husband.

Joey and I were feeling fine, though, and he was my little partner in crime today.  We made salt dough clay, and played with his animal toys, and I he drew us a couple of pictures.  It's fun, watching the evolution of a little one's drawings. His people have now sprouted legs, and feet, and exactly ten fingers.

When Alex was done with school, I took him outside for a little fresh air.  At the grocery store this morning, Joey and I bought some whole walnuts, with the idea that the boys would get a kick out of cracking them.  I used to love hammering and prying open the black walnuts that my grandpa would gather from his woods: I remember them being incredibly messy, and requiring excessive force to open. It was the perfect chore for a little kid.

Joey was tired, but Alex was an enthusiastic little nut-cracker, doing his chore carefully and with pride.  He proudly told several neighbors, as they passed by, "Es ist für Eis!" It's for ice cream!

In America I'd never do this kind of activity on a public sidewalk, since I know so many nut-allergic little ones back home. But I've only met one child all year who has a nut allergy: a little boy who doesn't live in our neighborhood and who, interestingly, is American.

When Ella got home, I rallied the troops for a trip to the ice rink but then suddenly realized I didn't have my wallet. I desperately hoped I'd left it at the grocery store (and not on the sidewalk somewhere) this morning, and dashed, heart in my throat, to Migros with Ella and Alex.

Luck was with me: they had my wallet at the reception desk: it had been turned in by my favorite cashier, an older Asian man who, because German is his second language as well, speaks very slowly and is very patient with me.  I found him and thanked him effusively: one good thing, at least, has come of the daily trips to the grocery store that have made me a recognizable regular. They looked after me, thank goodness.

After all that, it was a little too late for ice skating, so we decided to curl up and finally, finally watch Cars 2, which Daniel and Susannah had ordered and kindly loaned to us.  The kids, of course, were extra thrilled, delayed gratification being an lovely thing.

But Joey, exhausted from a busy day, fell asleep within the first ten minutes of the movie, and woke up only for the very end. Ella and Alex were riveted, though, and when the movie was over, the two of them dashed off, throughly inspired, to make spy equipment.  I had to cut their project short, since it was late, but not before Ella built herself a jet pack.  "It's not retractable or voice operated," she admitted, sadly, but I think it'll do. And she went to sleep with tape and cardboard next to her bed, so she can pick up exactly where she left up tomorrow morning.