I Talk to Little People

Back in 1986, I went to Germany as part of an exchange program. My German counterpart in the exchange and I are still friends. When I was visiting her during that summer, we went to the Castle Neuschwanstein with her sister’s family. At the time, her sister had only one child who was about five.

The 5 year old and I decided we didn’t want to ride the tram down the mountain but that we’d walk together and meet everyone at the bottom of the hill. It started to rain. I scooped her up and we quickly hurried to the bottom of the hill. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the rest of our party. So, in my brilliance, I asked the 5 year old for assistance. I figured she was German and should be able to help decipher signs, etc. I think she was crying when we finally found everyone. I was nearly ready to cry too. My friend still finds it hilarious that I was asking her niece for help in reading road signs. I figured her German was better than mine and why not?


The other night when we were babysitting The Niece I asked her if she wanted to watch TV while she had a snack. She opened the cabinet and said that we had to watch the Bambi DVD. The better-half and I could not figure out how to get the DVD sound to appear anywhere. So, we asked The Niece how to do it. Mind you, she’s three. She told us to press this button and then this button. We were treated to a really loud rendition of a Sesame Street CD. We boogied down to that for a few seconds then The Niece declared the batteries were dead and we played with rocks again while the Bambi table of contents flickered on the screen. We never did figure it out. But at least we know we can count on her to get us hooked up with stereo.

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