The Parents Were Here

Grandma and Puffes Noodle

My parents were here, so of course I have been drinking.  This is not a reaction to them. This is simply the organic result of having free babysitters who are happy as little clams to bounce the baby and stuff her full of pureed carrots. 

They came last Thursday, suitcases bursting with beautiful baby clothes and toys and books and candy (that's for the grownups around here, who apparently are believed to have the dietary preferences of six year-olds raised in an American food desert), to spread merriment and good cheer around our humble abode. Hooray! And then in the wee hours this morning they left. Sorrow.

Luggage McNoodle and her dad

The trip was a great success. On Saturday we drove out to Peilstein to wander around the 7km "Erlebnisweg", but about two kilometers into our walk the sky darkened and it began to drizzle, so we turned around. The last kilometer or so we were walking into a freezing, hurricane-like wind through shards of frozen rain, which was sort of adventurous and magical until the Noodle (understandably) decided she had had quite enough thank-you-very-much and lapsed into a low-level grousing combined with repeatedly smacking her father about the head. 

Granddad in the woods

Weather notwithstanding we managed to gather a big bag of Bärlauch (bear leek, or woods garlic) and before driving home we warmed ourselves up in a Heuriger with beer, diverse pork and knödel, so we can't really complain. 

It's always good to have Noodle's grandparents around. Our baby had the time of her life because she got to be carried around all day long and there was always someone around to play peekaboo and wake up with her at five a.m. (thanks, Dad!). Alex and I could leave the apartment with nothing in our hands (hooray!) and even go on dates with each other, can you imagine, including to the cabaret. I've had three separate low-level hangovers in six days--great success! My mother spent her time campaigning hard for grandparent of the year, reading books, shaking rattles and singing nursery rhymes over and over and over again. Also she has rearranged my pantry in her usual wonderful if totally inscrutable way. 

Slightly manic mama and her indignant, pink-cheeked offspring
dry off after walking through the driving rain.

My poor father, however, did not leave Vienna unscathed. He went out on an innocent 9 a.m. hunt for sausages on Monday morning and ended up getting punched in the face by a flying street sign, which had been dislodged by a tremendous gust of wind. Sadly for all of us scroungers at home he didn't file a complaint or otherwise extort the responsible shopkeeper. Such a nice man. As of yesterday the bleeding had stopped and the swelling has gone down, so that's good. He has refused all offers of ice but has been eating copious amounts of ibuprofen and appears to be recovering well. He is a beacon of manly suck it up-ness. Stiff upper lip and all that...get it? GET IT?  

Battle scars.

Come again soon, Mom and Dad! We miss you already.