Cookies

My "date" went fabulously well. Maria met me on the corner and invited me upstairs for coffee and cookies (and nuts and crackers). Neither she nor her husband speak English or French but they are warm, inviting people.

I had no idea what to expect. Their apartment is considerably shabbier than mine but it's definitely cozier. Reminds me of the quintessential great-grandmother apartment, filled with crafts, doilies, an old TV and a cat and dog. All that was missing was a fire crackling at the grate.

There was a picture of Maria on the wall when she was 18. What a beautiful young woman. The years have not been too kind but I still think she's beautiful. Her eyes are always sparkling with so much personality! However, she suffers from glaucoma and cataracts and has to take eye drops everyday.

She showed me pictures from her wedding and first husband (I think). I understand that her current husband is not her first husband. I had a heck of a time explaning the concept of "step father" and "step brothers" until I realised the word was in my dictionary.

Soon, their son, Florin, came home. He showed me pictures of soccer games from Timisoara and Bucharest. He only spoke a few words of English but conversational Italian so we created our own English-Italian-Romanian language hybrid. He was very nice but asked me if I was married. Hmmm...

Maria insisted on stuffing me full of cookies. And almonds. And cheese crackers. And water. (I politely declined the coffee). I picked up a lot of Romanian during the evening, seeing as I kept having to consult my dictionary and write everything down before I said it. It must have been torture for them seeing as I have zero concept of Romanian grammar or vocabulary. I can't even pluralise words. However, no ESL student was as proud as me when I was able to make them understand something I was trying to say.

Later on, Florin and I taught each other to count in our respective languages. I can finally count to 100, badly, but comprehensibly.

Maria gave me some cookies to take home and hid a watermelon in the bag as well. If you're asking how one can hide a watermelon, well, I thought it was a bottle or two of water at the bottom of the bag. Now I have three watermelons and two Spanish melons on my table in the kitchen.

She invited me over to make cookies tonight. And to lunch Sunday for the traditional Romanian meatball/cabbage dinner.

I want to invite them over for dinner too but I don't know how they'd feel. My apartment is twice the size of theirs and I live alone. I feel it might be awkward on everyone's part. Any advice?