Now it is off to Germany, land of warm beer, pickled cabbage and Heidi Klumm. Grumpy is now after me to drink more. He wants a large beer, a huge beer, a beer of legendary proportions. And a pretzel. Im not into a boatload of warm beer and pretzels without brown mustard or warm plastic cheese product are just a waste of carbs. While Grumpy gets his beer, Tink and I check out the wine. They have a wine tasting area and also you can get wine by the glass. This is nice. Then I see it German ice wine. Mmmmmm ice wine. For $12 a glass. No, strike that for a quarter glass a wee glass, a tiny taste of a smidgeon of a glass. TWELVE dollars. In American money. That is SIX POUNDS which is a deal if you are British. I havent checked the exchange rate for Euros or Klingon money but I will bet they are getting a deal as well. TWELVE DOLLARS!
So what do I do? I get the wine. They gave me a wee square of chocolate (70% cocoa content). I suppose the least they owe me is fancy shmancy chocolate to go with the TWELVE DOLLAR wee sip of ice wine. I sat down with Tink and Grumpy and sipped my wine.
You would think that Grumpy would be happy. I have now had 3 alcoholic beverages but no, my wine isnt big enough, Im not drinking enough, Im not drinking fast enough.
SCREETCH
Ummmm, when did you become my Mother? I really dont recall designating you the nag police. Oh and by the way, why do you care? Am I telling you what to drink or when to drink or how much to drink? No. So stop it already. This is getting old really fast.
I finish my ice wine and decide to check out Steiff button in the ear bears while Grumpy gets another beer of Gigantic proportions. I love Steiff bears. They have a limited edition Mickey bear that only costs the mortgage of the average Midwestern house. That means that is my mortgage times FOUR. Gotta love livin in California.
After arguing with one of the voices that lives in my head, I decide NOT to get the pricey bear. I can get another bear, a different bear. I will come back and get this one when I am Mrs. Alan Rickman and we come here on our honeymoon. HA!
I know, he is probably gay just let me have my fantasy.
Well we now head by Italy. We dont actually go in it we just stop at the Bellini cart. Tink gets one because she loves them. I am a purist and refuse because they arent real Bellinis. These come in a bottle. A real Bellini is Perseco with white peach juice. Not regular peaches, not cling peaches, WHITE peaches. Tink mocks me. She likes these just fine. Grumpy looks at me. Why dont I have a drink? I say because I dont want one.
As we approach the US of A, Grumpy decides to get a Sam Adams. Great. Have a Sam Adams, have two. I care not.
Now remember the poking from Animal Kingdom? No the poking isnt coming back. Its worse. REALLY. Its the licking! He gets his beer, turns to Tink and LICKS HER. On the face. Like a demented St. Bernard. I kid you not but it gets worse. Really. Tink decides she needs some cash and a bathroom break. We head to the American Pavillion where she has one stop bathroom/banking all down one corridor. With her gone, Grumpy decides that chasing me around with his tongue hanging out like he is trying to lick me is funny.
Who thinks this is funny? Raise your hands. Who thinks this is disturbing? Raise your hands. OK, I am counting WAY more hands on the disturbing vote. Those Klingons and people from Minnesota dontcha know are voting with funny just to get back at me about the language crack earlier.
Seriously now, this is just weird. Grumpy is 42 years old. FORTY TWO! I now feel I have fallen into a David Lynch vacation with a manic depressive 3 year old. I try various tactics. I try to ignore him. Remember all of our Mothers gave us that advice when boys teased us in grade school. Didnt work any better now than it did then. I tried the polite heh heh laugh with the withering smile while backing away. Nothing. I tried saying look, stop it, really, this is freaking me out. Nothing. WHERE IS TINK?! This is her man! Finally I snap and just say in that no nonsense Mom voice Look, KNOCK IT OFF! NO MEANS NO!
I didnt want to go this route because we are all stuck together and sharing a hotel room and a plane and everything from Florida to California and we are only on day 3 of 7 days in The World. Now Grumpy is all bent out of sorts.
I have discovered something today. When he is doing whatever he does, as long as you go along with it, he is OK or at least not setting fire to small animals. If you disagree with him or tell him no, then his Anger Management classes start to kick in. I can see that he wants to hit me with a shovel or something but decides to bury that emotion and pout instead.
Tink returns from the LONGEST bathroom break EVER to this:
G: What?
Me: Its annoying, stop it.
G: But you liked it.
Me: No I didnt
G: Yes you did, you laughed.
Me: I was being polite and hoping you would take a hint.
G: (silence)
Me: (trying the Girl route) Look, Im sure Tink thinks its funny and that is great but I have issues from when I was little. You see my dad thought it was a laugh riot to wrestle around with us kids, pin us down and pretend like he is going to spit on us. I would FREAK out and he just thought it was the funnies thing on Earth. (Yup, my Dad the lawyer and the Chief of Staff to a State Senator I wonder if this is all testosterone related?)
G: Well, that doesnt have to do with me.
Me: No but it involves tongues and spit and ICK. It bugs me, I asked you to stop and when someone says no, they mean no.
Grumpy just decides to pout. It is perfectly OK for him to reign down those dogs suck on whatever we like but tell him no hes not OK with that.
I figure we need a quick getaway to Japan and candy animals because nothing saves the day like candy animals. I am the peace maker child of the family along with being the black sheep of the family and the weird one. Dont ask. So I try to fix it with these candy animals, I read about on the Boards.
NEXT: Japan, Off-Kilter, "the beavers", why we hate the French, Grumpy still pouts and the infamous pigeon milk. More Grumpy pouts, plans and a flying squirell that he was responsible for coming soon.