Here's a great story from my friend, Monika. Thanks, M.
East Germany 1982, 17th July
I was, at that time, one of three siblings. Four would add themselves later on.
We had just moved into a new flat, ´cause mom had left her 2ond husband and wanted to get as far away as possible.
It was my birthday and my mom had promissed that we would go to the bakery and I could pick a piece of cake...anything I´d like. The night before was spent with anticipation and images of all cake shapes, varieties and colours.
On my birthday morning, we did indeed go. Just me and mom. I could taste the sugar disolving on my lips. Money was very tight in my family, my mom being on her own and everything. Even back then I knew the honour that she was bestowing on me.
When we got into the bakery, it was filled with people. We had to wait for a very long time in line. Fianlly it was my mom´s turn and she asked me what I wanted. The problem, however, was that I couldn´t see because a rather big woman was infront of me and not making any space, so I said to my mom: “I can´t see, the fat lady is infront of me!” which was followed by a slap into my face and a pain I could not have imagined. We left without the cake...
Years later my mom would repeat this incident to whoever wnated o listen, with a slight change in emphasis.
Inappropriate, adj. As with truth it has three sides. My side, your side and what really happened!