Linda Nightingale to the Rescue

I am currently (or finally if you ask him) dating a German man. While it’s true that Germans aren’t known the world over for their romantic side, I feel that this is something that should be rectified.

A German man, or at least this German man, shows you in a thousand different ways how much you mean to him – and he does it in a way that doesn’t make me want to vomit.

These little Germantic gestures include things like:

  • getting up at crackofdawn o’clock to drive me halfway across the city to a morning lesson when I’m running late
  • having a thermos of black tea with milk waiting in the car to soothe the savage beast
  • doing the midnight run to the petrol station when we run out of wine
  • having a word with a security guard at a concert to see if I could stand over by the exit so that I might see something other than the backs of tall Germans’ heads – it actually worked
  • buying me little gifts, not because it’s a special occasion but simply because he thinks I’ll get a kick out of them
The Terrible German Language by Mark Twain
The Terrible German Language by Mark Twain
  • He also bought me the rather entertaining Travel Pussy, which shows how well he knows me…
  • He listens to my bizarre questions about his mother tongue and claims to find them “endearing”

Anyway, I could go on but that’s probably enough for now. The point is, he does so much for me that when he injured his leg playing football, I felt that this was my chance to do something for him so I offered to move in and play nurse for a week or so.

Regular readers will know that I’m hardly the most tender soul on the planet but well, what was the worst that could happen? My mother told me to wish Manfredas luck in between disbelieving snorts of laughter, and I told his next-door neighbour to call 112 if she heard screaming coming from the apartment. We were all set.

The second I moved in, I felt at home. This was partly to do with the fact that he’d previously bought me slippers that said “Home” on them. I quickly unpacked my bits and bobs and put them away in the drawers and spaces that he’d cleared for me. If he was horrified by the lack of neatness, he didn’t say anything.

We had decided from the get-go that we would speak more German. Ostensibly, this was to improve my fluency but I think he was secretly hoping for the entertainment value. Naturally, I didn’t disappoint.

Me: I just need to brush my hair. 

Manfredas: Ha ha ha ha! 

Me: What? What did I say? 

Manfredas: Bah hahahaha! 

Me: Oh wait. I know. Breast, right? I said that I need to breast my hair… 

(Bürsten – to brush, Brüste – breasts)

Me: What’s “to score” in German? 

Manfredas: Schießen.

Me: But that’s “to shoot”.

Manfredas: It’s the same in German. 

Me: But isn’t there another word for “to score”? 

Manfredas: Erzielen.

Me: And “Ziel” means “goal”, right? 

Manfredas: Yes.

Me: So… in German, you goal it in the goal? 

Manfredas: Sigh. 

Me: GOAL IT! GOAL IT IN THE GOAL! Ha ha haha! Anyway, es ist nicht vorbei bis die dicke Frau singt… (it ain’t over til the fat lady sings)

Manfredas: NEIN! That doesn’t work in German. 

Me: Oh well. It was worth a goal I guess…

Amazingly, he didn’t kick me out and, as the days progressed, we slipped into a nice routine. I’d go out to work, popping back home whenever I could, and picking up any supplies we needed along the way.

Every morning, I’d get out of the shower to find that he’d laid out everything I’d need to make breakfast, including a fresh pot of tea.

German planning
German planning

Every evening, I’d come home to find my washing done and a delicious meal underway. Pasta bake, pork tenderloin, roast chicken, burgers barbequed on the balcony… I started to wonder who was taking care of whom. Still, I wasn’t complaining.

How to hang your washing, German-style
How to hang your washing, German-style

We’d spend most evenings out on the balcony, chatting, drinking wine and making up stories about the neighbours. I’m convinced one guy, who Manfredas dubs “The Constant Gardener”, is actually out there to be closer to the all the bodies he’s got buried under the lawn (but that’s just me).

Berlin sky at night
Berlin sky at night

Regrettably,  Manfredas’s leg got a little better every day so, after 9 days, I moved back to my own place. Yup, it’s back to toasted sandwiches and beans on toast for me. I’m not sure I was any better as a nurse than I am in the kitchen, but if it’s true that laughter is the best medicine, then maybe I helped a little after all.

OK, it’s time to breast my hair before bed…

72 thoughts on “Linda Nightingale to the Rescue”

  1. Congrats on making it blog official! He sounds like an absolute peach. 🙂 German dudes may not write many sonnets (thank God), but I’m with you on liking the way they show you that they care. Especially if that involves dinner! Looking forward to hearing more about your adventures together…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Were you, and don’t be afraid to be honest here, at any point tempted to break his leg with a typewriter like the woman in Steven King’s Misery just so you could stay with him forever?
    Or maybe, next time you are at his house, you should simply forget to leave, ever, and just claim you were going to go home on the Tuesday but you got it muddled up with the Thursday, and now it’s too late so you’ll have to wait till the same time next month…. Or was it year?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ha, I think he might have got suspicious after a while 😉 And we removed all dangerous items before I moved in – just in case… Just kidding 🙂


  3. Oh man. He sounds amazing. I hope that happens to me when I move in with my boyfriend. He is definitely way tidier than I am. But I do doubt his cooking abilities. He learned everything from me, so that’s a rough start, haha.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ha, thank god the German had his cooking skills down before he ever met me! The only thing I’ve done in the kitchen is make tea and pour wine – my only strengths in that department 🙂 I’m sure you’ll get some funny stories out of moving in either way!


  4. Awww, who need silly romantic gestures when one can get daily essentials like laundry, hot meal in the evening all done, and some nice AND useful gifts. Sounds like spoiling indeed
    And you’ve moved out after all this? I certainly missed something here, or else I might get on Simone’s toes 😉

    Liked by 2 people

      1. well,you’ve witnessed first hand that in LV a woman can hide in bushes for a man, so why not this for a man willing to do the laundry, cooking 😉
        *off to polish my ninja costume for the upcoming hide’n’seek in some bushes*


  5. Ahh, young love, in the springtime. What could be better? Oh, we know, a Travel Pussy.

    He sounds like such a nice fellow. I’m saving for mu wedding guest dress already.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Ah, sounds like a lovely relationship is forming here. Laughter is seriously the best medicine ever. Apparently, if you had wanted his leg to heal more slowly, you would have needed to tell him stories sad enough to make a grown man cry. But then you probably would have been eager to leave for your own sanity. Maybe you need to feign a bruised toe or something so he can return the favor 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think my flat is too small for two! He’s definitely on the mend anyway – we were just away for the weekend and he was fine with walking and driving. Guess my bedside manner did the trick 😉

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ah, well, then you would have to recuperate at his flat then 🙂 Back in the day, before I was married, I rather preferred being at my boyfriend’s flat. It’s easier to leave than to kick someone out 😉 Glad to hear he’s doing better, no doubt due to your ministrations :).

        Liked by 1 person

  7. I like to believe that Germans are exceedingly romantic in the most practical of ways. I mean they aren’t going to show up outside your window with a boombox–can you just imagine how the neighbors would react–but they’ll happily do little things throughout the day to make your life easier. I’ve never been one for grand romantic gestures, so it works well for me. I wish you and Manfredas all the happiness in the world. He seems like a peach!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ha, thank you! He is! And yes, that’s it exactly! Little things that make my life so much easier/better 🙂 Someone would call the Ordungsamt for sure if he showed up with a boombox 😉

      Liked by 1 person

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