Weiner Schnizel, Apparently Has Nothing To Do With Hot Dogs

Blurry picture of the brewery and band.
Too bad we werent able to get a picture of the guy dancing in lederhosen

tiki tiki tiki, hoy hoy hoy.
(the German version of when i say 'hey', you say 'ho')

The kids jump on the tables and sing and dance to their favorite songs. As the night goes on more and more people get up on the tables. This picture was taken early on. (to be honest, all the other tables that had little kids had already left and they were probably in bed. instead we forced the andersons into our italian habits of eating late and Tia and Pia were the only little ones left). I told Kevin if he and I were legally able to drink at 16, we'd probably be passed out under the tables, not on top of them!

Michelle and Tia lower their heads in prayer,
as they realize that Kevin has been possessed by Beer Demons.

...yet another family foto where Sophia looks at something in the distance.
(and from the looks of it, the demons were possessing Max too!)

Prost! (what a great picture of the people underneath the glasses, too bad we dont know them).

This is the real weiner schnizel. It is a breaded and fried veal cutlet and some french fries, typical pub grub. It was darn good! We joked that the lemon, sprig of parsley and ketchup must be considered veggies.

Okay here is tonight's bedtime story. As everyone knows, I don't like to drive in Italy! But being as how we were in Germany and max drank a beer the size of Sophia, I got handed the keys. Hooray! Except...the car is new, we got it just before Sophia and I went back to Cali and I couldn't figure out to how to adjust the seat. Apparently Max has long legs and short arms, the chair was pushed back as far as possible and the seat back was leaning forward as much as possible. I pulled up the seat as close to the steering wheel as possible, - apparently I have short legs and long arms, so I needed lean the seat back a little (which is the part i couldn't figure out how to do). There was a dial at the bottom of the seat, which i turned and turned , but it just made my butt go down and the legs tilt up towards the knees. As I pull out of the brewery drive way, Max has the brilliant idea to 'help' me, and he YANKS the handle which pulls the whole seat forward and backward. my feet no longer touch the pedals. I grunt, swear and mutter a very sarcastic thanks. Since the car is stick, the momentum of the car is going forward, it is all i can do to get the seat just barely close enough to touch the pedals again. We are in Germany, where there are only round-abouts and no stop signs -I'm trying to follow the Andersons and there are cars behind me. I never got the chance to correctly adjust the seat again. So I drove home with the seat pushing my back forward (my nose touching the steering wheel), my butt sunk low to the ground, my knees up to my chest and stretching my toes to touch the pedals...can we not have a normal experience?? even a short and simple drive always has to turn into a series of follies!