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THE GERMAN DIARIES
Diarrhea Night Is Not the Same as Game Night
A true story of shame
(This is a repost of an earlier story of mine, for folks who may not have read it.)
One thing’s for certain, and I don’t care who you are: it’s never easy when you’re faced with having to cover up an evening-long affliction of diarrhea at Grammy and Grampy’s house.
It was Easter 2009. We thought we’d get cute and spend the weekend at Omi and Opi’s (German for grandma and grandpa). Pack some clothes. Rent a car. Do the whole hey-I’m-the-grandkid thing. A young couple on a sole mission of getting spoiled with hearty German food, holiday chocolates, and dull sightseeing accompanied by stories of a simpler time.
Besides, Heinrich and Inga needed the company. They live far away from it all in the historic town of Bautzen, Germany, where Easter egg-making and horseback processions are just another day at the office.
From the moment we put the rental car in park, Omi and Opi were all smiles. They were happy to have us and enjoyed our company, and we enjoyed theirs. Life was good in Bautzen.
But wait a second. Fast-forward to where I’m sitting at the dinner table after having just engulfed a large portion of Omi’s husky casserole, which presumably had the…
