Monday. Munich setting a poor example for global warming. Gray, cold, drizzly. Yoga in the morning, work through lunch, customer demo in the afternoon, pick up the kids from playdate, drive Ralf to the airport, drive home in the pouring rain and put the kids to bed.
The product demo went well although Ralf claims that at one point I banged the table and bellowed the German equivalent of, 'Dude, we can totally do that!'
I have no recollection of this. I think he's screwing with me.
The meeting ran an hour late so we were late picking up our kids. I was too chicken to phone the mommy who had collected our kids from Kindergarten, taken them to gymnastics and home again, and to whom I had solemnly sworn we would be there by 5:30.
I mean, sure, sometimes people get held up but with our two kids she looked after five kids for four hours and walked them from school to gymnastics and home again and we were, like, an hour late with no message.
Basically, I just couldn't face the music when I had a big chunk of German fall guy sitting right there next to me.
Er. What I mean is that male charm was clearly in order so I made Ralf call her to explain and appologize.
From my end the conversation sounded like this:
Ralf: 'Katja, hi, it's Ralf. . . I know, I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry. What? I know, I'm sorry. I can't say sorry enough times. We just couldn't get out of our meeting, they nailed us to the. . . what? I know, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Yes, totally our bad. We're on our way now, we'll be there in. . . what? Yes, I know, I'm sorry. I know, you're right, we're really sorry. We'll be there in 20 minutes. Right. Right. Thanks. I know. Sorry. Bye!'
Hanging up the phone Ralf shrugged and made a vaguely Meditarranean hand gesture. 'See? No problem. She said it's totally fine.'
It must be so great to be a guy.