Those Exasperating Bits Of Spinach, Toilet Paper & Co.

Ah, the complexities of social interactions.

Many years ago I was talking to a couple who had quite obviously just been to lunch. They were a couple who've had many seasons and kids together and clearly they made an impact on me.

The lady in question was making an appointment with me, and they were both standing in front of my reception desk and that was the problem. There was a great, big and not to be ignored piece of cooked spinach stuck in her teeth. Not in an acceptable molar place but front and incisor-sh. A magnet to my eyes. Should I make her aware or not; kept flitting through my mind, but that had a quagmire of other social no-nos attached to it.

Surely her husband should have seen it and told her, bluntly, that she had a green tooth, yet, because he hadn't, if I had, it would have put him in a dangerous domestic situation... Suffice to say, that even now, about eight years later I can vividly recall said situation.

Fast forward to last night, or actually yesterday afternoon. Gosh, as it gets dark before five it seems as if six o'clock is in the middle of the night. A Glühwein stand had appeared at the Eisenberg Fire station. It happened to be bitterly cold, minus 5 degrees and even though we huddled next to huge gas burners ( or some such ) had alcohol to warm us up, it was still icy cold.

Bob and I had a nice chat to a couple of villagers and eventually went home. On the way, my darling husband nonchalantly, without regret and full of laughter told me:

" I didn't know how to tell you, but your nose was dripping from the cold. "

Yikes, instant cold shivers of embarrassment made their way down my spine and a even more quick;

" Oh no, why didn't you tell me? "

Today, I have scheduled an hour of spousal signal training.

• A nudge on the upper arm for a dripping nose.
• A quick stroke of the beard for a stubborn piece of spinach.
• and the old favourite, stomping on his feet under the dinner table when a domestic fable is shared.

The mind is a curious thing and now and again shows some permeable qualities. At some point in the past, I had the proverbial sheets of toilet paper stuck to my shoe while walking through a crowed shopping center. Tres embarrassing indeed, but luckily I only remembered it now and rather hazily too.

Biggi