There is no turning back, I am officially German. It has been creeping up on me over the years. The eco-friendly 100% cotton bags I take to the store to pack my groceries in. The Birkenstocks with socks. I argued with my inner self - The bags are practical, and the socks keep my feet warm. I even told myself they were signs of ageing. Maturity had set in. I pick things up when they are lying on the floor instead of kicking them under the furniture. I am an adult. No shame in that. I would rather admit to getting old, than turning German. But lately, I have been doing things that have nothing to do with maturity. Last week at Top Bau - the home improvement store - I toyed with the idea of hanging flower boxes over the edge of the balcony, and filling them with geraniums. This is more German than Sauerkraut and Bratwurst.
Anyway, the final leap happened this morning at 11:46 when the pharmacist handed me Arnica Kügelchen. For all of you Motrin gulping, Tylenol popping readers out there, Arnica is a homeopathic medicine. It can be taken after surgery to reduce pain and swelling. It can help alleviate sprains and strains, and is used for bruise relief. It is also used to manage the pain before and after labor and delivery, as well as lessen trauma.
I looked like possessed Linda Blair when I asked for painkillers during labor with my first child. The midwife gave me Arnica. I threw her out the window. Poor thing. Oh don‘t worry. It was only the first floor, and they gave her plenty of Arnica for the pain.
Needless to say, my whole take on these oh-so-popular little white balls is, pass the Oxycodone, please. I never, ever, ever thought I would have them in my medicine cabinet. It’s just so, German. You know that saying, “More American than mom’s apple pie.“ Thay have one here, it goes, “More German than Homeopathic Arnica pellets.”
I guess this is it. Tomorrow I’ll buy a basket for my bike and ride into town to shop. I just hope my dirndl doesn’t get caught in the chain.
I’d hate to fall off my bike. Oh wait, It’s okay, I have my Arnica!
2 comments:
It had to happen, bless! As long as you don't give up your crazy sense of humour we'll keep calling you the American.
xx Karenne
I can see you on the bike. Basket in front. Basket in back. Filled with natural produce. Don't forget to give that smug, superior look to those of us driving past in gas-guzzling, environment-destroying, 7 seater vans. And hey - hanging the geraniums on your balcony doesn't count as German if you forget to water them. Come on over any time!
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