The glare

This afternoon, we joined my neighbor Anna and her daughter Jonna for some playtime at our local playground. Even the older kids like zooming down the zipline and flying down the huge slide (don't forget -- throwing sand down before you makes you go faster!).

When it was time to go, I put Rebecca's sandals back on her feet and only when I stood up did I realize I had put them on the wrong feet. Oh well, we only had a 4-minute walk home where she would take them off right away, plus she usually puts them on the wrong feet anyway and it doesn't seem to bother her. Why switch them now? With a shrug of the shoulders, I turned around and we all started heading home.

I was chatting away with Anna when I heard someone call out. There was a mom with her kids standing next to Becca calling out something to me. I walked back to her and she said, "Your daughter's shoes are on the wrong feet," pointing down at Rebecca's sandals. "Yes, I know," I answered in German with an embarrassed smile, "I did that. It's OK. Come on, Rebecca." Her eyebrows shot up and she proceeded to bend down and touch first Becca's left foot, then her right, repeating more slowly this time, "Her shoes are on the wrong feet." I repeated, "Yes. I know. But it's OK." As I turned away from her, it happened.

Now, I have heard about this happening to several of my American friends here and have read about it on other ex-pat blogs, but it had never happened to me before. I was on the receiving end of a German glare of disapproval. This woman's eyes first widened in disbelief, then she shook her head and shot me the glare. I don't think I could replicate the power of that look. It actually sent a shiver down my spine.

Rebecca made it home in one piece but the memory of that glare stuck with me. It surely won't be the last time it happens and I'm not looking forward to experiencing it again. I've decided that it would be an excellent weapon to use on my own children at certain times. I just may begin practicing it.....