Both Quinn and I passed important tests this weekend:
I made homemade spätzle (egg noodles from the southwest part of Germany called Schwaben) for the first time and had some of my homemade goulash and kohlrabi (a type of turnip) to go with it. Only a Sunday Sauerbraten gets more German that this. I might not be German, but I can cook like one.
After spending this morning at an indoor playground (it was raining, and Quinn needed to get rid of some pent up energy), we stopped at the airport on the way home to look at the planes on the observation deck. As one of the planes was taking off, Quinn said (and I'm not exaggerating at all): Papa, the plane is fixin' to take off. I hugged him for that one. He might not be Texan, but he might could talk like one (yes, for the German readers, 'might could' is horrible english, but it works fine in Texas).
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Of course when a true Texan says it, it sounds a whole lot more like "maght cud" than "might could", which is how we yankees like to poke fun at it. He reckon he's fixin' to be real multi-cultural.
Post a Comment