munich us

Before we had a kid, we went to Europe. Because that's what you do, right? It wasn't a last hurrah, actually. We didn't know at the time that we would have a family other than us two. We flew to Amsterdam--a much delayed flight through New Jersey--and took the night train to Munich. By the time we got on the train, we were squeezed out tubes of sloppy sauce. And the train was filled with co-eds giggling and in their jammies. Or so he told me when he went to find us a make-shift meal of wine and cheesy crackers.

We slept like thieves, and woke up nearly in Munich. The lowest fog hugged the tracks as we crept past outposts. There was no part of it that wasn't like the movies.

We were there just a couple days. There were long, long walks around the city, and ending in the English Garden. There are pictures of us in front bright purple explosions of wonder and rivers and lots of beer. Beer bigger than anything. It was a Monday, and we were sitting in the middle of several parties of after work friends at the center of the garden, near a Chinese tower. Rows of green benches and tables. Eating something like a pile of french fries, only way, way more amazing, covered in this sauce that I don't even know what it is. But it was white and had lumps. Nothing was complicated. Everything was just like what we wanted.

We both felt it. Welled up inside with contentment, if such a thing is possible. So we dubbed ourselves, "Munich us." The us who didn't drive, whose destinations were epicurean and grand with the world. We promised each other that when we got home, "Munich us" would prevail. We will bike or walk everywhere. We will dine al fresco. We will eat full-fat foods but in moderation (most of the time). And we will be merry. Always.

There have been long bike rides to fantastic destinations. From one end of the city to the other just for the chance to drink out of a silly glass and end the day with seafood in the park. Music. Block parties and tattoos and waterfalls. Munich us has done really well.

But only since she came into the world. Only since time became something else other than what we waste. We came home from that trip and we did things. But it wasn't Munich us. It was just us. She makes everything better, and makes us remember what's important.

Two weeks ago, we were in a neighboring state, a more rural place. We rode bikes downtown there and ate pizza and had drinks after. We mistook people for other people and passed ashtrays to smokers. Then we left, and wheeled past the fairgrounds. Onto the bike path, through the woods. There were bugs and nature and no one else could see us. We even had little lights on our hats.

And that was all the light there was.

There was some disagreement about the safety of the path. Surely, there were murderers.

"I feel like I'm riding through 48 Hours Mystery!" I said

"It's not 48 Hours Mystery. Except for that one episode."

He is...hilarious.

I often imagine myself watching myself doing things, and thinking about how it would be reported on the news.

"Look at the stars," he said.

If I'm honest, I was a little intimidated by all the nature.

"I've seen stars."

"Not like this."

It was so dark. If we hadn't had those lights, we'd have been in a velvet sea.

"Turn off your lights for a second."

"What?!"

"Turn them off."

Not everything he says is gentle. But this was gentle. So I did.

It was just as you might imagine. Frogs and other chirps. The strangest of sounds but none of them threatening. So much more powerful than the two of us, but inviting us in. Taking us with. Munich us.

"Thanks," he said.

"Of course," I said.

"This smells like my childhood," he said.

We could have been best friends, swinging from tires. We could have grown up together. I always thought we would never have fallen in love if we had met a day before we did. That there was this perfect moment when we came together. I don't think that's true, now. Because even though it didn't smell like my youth, I really wished it had. I wish I had known you when.

"I'm going to write about this," I said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Total Munich us."

We rode past the ditch weed and the high school. All the way to another adventure.