Well I managed to make it almost 8 months without having to visit the police station here in Germany (longer than Brice expected). I woke up one morning to find a ticket on the windshield of the van. Of course I had no idea what it was for because it was all in German. After having it translated I learned it was because we had our new German license plates on wrong. Of course no one told us that there was ONE plate for the front of the van and ONE plate for the back. And of course they LOOK THE SAME. I'm sure the ticket was the product of one really bored polizei officer feeling a bit bitter for having to patrol the "Americans". So we fixed the plates and learned that I then had to drive to the police station to have an officer see that the travesty had been corrected and have my good name cleared.
One would think that a quick trip to the police station would be easy. Well good friends, nothing is easy or convenient in Germany (but that's a blog for another day). The station is only a few miniutes from our home but it took 15 minutes to get there because you can't turn left ANYWHERE! We (the girls and I) finally figure out how to get into the parking lot only to discover that there are only 5 parking spaces and of course they are all full. So we wait until one opens up and squeeze our monster of a mini van into a parking space designed for a Yugo. I lug the kids into the station, search for someone who speaks English and show them my ticket. The nice officer rolls his eyes (not at me but because someone gave me a ticket for such a lame reason). He is quite smitten with Kayla and offers her a coloring book and candy (of course she accepts). We walk out to the van, he checks the plates and we are on our way.
