Last weekend I had the privilege of meeting my boyfriend's parents for the first time. Meeting parents is one thing. Meeting parents who are from another country is an entirely different thing. Meeting German parents is a whole 'nother ball game. Hell, it's a whole 'nother World Cup.

At first I had gotten out of it due to scheduling conflicts. Then I got a phone call that flipped my world upside down, inside out, round and round, in the words of my girl Diana Ross. "I'm with my parents and they want to meet you. Like... now. Meet us at the Gaenseliesl." There I was hunched over my computer reading Oh No They Didn't in my boxers and a wifebeater with an ice tea stain on my left boob. "Uhhh now?" I asked. "Yeah." he replied as if he didn't know about my current bag lady state. Luckily, my hair was already fixed since I was instructed to gussy up for the national Mexican team training session in order to get autographs, which didn't happen I might add. Although the 'do was taken care of, I still faced the ultimate dilemma- what to wear.

a midriff and a miniskirt? too skanky

a hooded sweatshirt with jeans and flip flops? too American

a band t-shirt and chucks? too punk/emo

I finally decided on an argyle sweater, jeans and my sailing shoes accesorized with some pearl earrings. I wanted to come off as refined but not too grandma-y.

As I was riding my bike to meet them, I tried to think of all the conversational setences I could say. "Nice to meet you.", "The weather sure has picked up.", "No, I did not vote for Bush.", "I like to see the glass as half-full."

So I walked over to the Gaenseliesl where I was greeted by Amos and his dad. "Hallo, ich bin der Vater von Amos." "Hallo, ich bin Janelle. Das Mädchen, mit dem dein Sohn ca. jeden Tag schläft." Just kidding. Sorry, I won't be translating that one. His dad asked me if German was okay since he could speak English. The last thing I wanted to come off as was dumb even though that was inevitable given my German skills but at least I could get an A for effort, right?

The dad is going to work in the Philippines from November until March so he asked me a bunch of questions about my motherland. He asked me if he'd be able to learn Tagalog in a month through books. I've been hearing Tagalog my whole life and I can barely say, "I eat my rice with soy sauce." He asked me about the weather and even about the altitude. I told the man I had been to the city he's working in ONCE and that translated into me being the ultimate source of information for this place. I began making up facts for the sake of not sounding like I had no clue about the country my parents hail from.

Before he could ask me about the different types of insects that inhabit the Philippines, the mom showed up and we went to a nice little ice cream shop. I was hoping the mom would save me and ask simple questions like what my hobbies are or who my favorite Backstreet Boy was when I was 12. "Anything that maintains the homeostasis of life. I also find time for embroidery. Oh and Howie, hands down." Unfortunately, she was quiet as a mouse. Apparently, Amos' sister had complained that their mom asked too many personal questions when she met the new boyfriend. She decided to avoid further embarrassment by not participating in the conversation at all but the dad made up for it by bombarding me with questions. "So what is your vision for the future?", "So you belong the Catholic church, right?", "When did the U.S. stop occupying the Philippines? Do you think that was a good decision?" The questions just did not get any easier.

Finally he asked something I could answer with ease- "Are you following the World Cup?" I told him that I was and that my interest in the sport had only begun when I moved to Germany and because Amos would prefer to order in and glue his eyes to the television than actually going out like those among the normal ranks of society. WRONG ANSWER. That led to some relationship questions. "So how do you put up watching all this football with him? What else do you guys do together?"

Totally unbeknownst to me, Amos had told his parents that we were serious which prompted his dad to ask what we were going to do since my time in Germany was winding down fast. I froze because I didn't have the heart to say that we were calling it quits. Right when I had thought of the perfect, politcally correct answer that I cannot remember today, the waitress came with our bill.

Everything after that was a-okay. The mom finally spoke to me and told me about her travels before her children and her plans to stay in Africa for a few weeks. Very Angelina Jolie, I thought. As we parted ways, I told them that it was a pleasure meeting them and that hopefully we'd meet again before I flew back to California. They then invited me to Wuppertal, where they live now and then realized that they were leaving for their house in France soon so they invited me there instead. "Score," I though. I was in with the parents.

The experience wasn't as bad as I had anticipated it to be. I even learned a very valuable lesson upon meeting Mr. and Mrs. Groth- read the encyclopedia. ALL 26 volumes because you never know what they're gonna ask.