Oh yes, we did.

Since it was so much fun last time, Muffti and I met up again. This time we explored some European history by visiting the old city of Frankfurt/M.


Muffti was quite eager to try German specialities, so he also had spaghetti ice cream. Now don’t go all ewwwww on him, spaghetti ice cream is ice cream that looks like spaghetti (in the traditional version it’s vanilla ice cream squeezed through a device comparable to a potato ricer, topped with strawberry sauce and white chocolate sprinkles; usually comes with a core of whipped cream) . Muffti thoroughly enjoyed it and will start pestering the counter guys at Ben & Jerry’s from now on to serve him spaghetti ice cream.

I got myself a little collectible to mark the day, but I’m not supposed to share why in particular I picked this one (look at the tags and draw your own conclusions).

Embarrassing moment of the day, I recounted my impressive vocabulary of Russian curse words to Muffti when we were sitting on a train. Only a few minutes later I realised that the gentleman sitting next to us was reading a Russian magazine. Vicki, how do you say, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got a bad case of a speech impediment that makes social niceties sound like profanities,” in Russian?

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