The barter of the teenage girl and what the old mother


    When I was in the age of the Wombi, I had a jeans jacket and a duffle coat. It had not occurred to me in a dream, to go to the Burberry coat to my mother, she loved like a third child. If you made it in the cleaning, she was depressed to such an extent, as you would have given away one of your children. I remember that she was even less sad when I drove once in a year with a class at the country school week. To know Burberry in a special washing machine, with unworthy coats and Jackets, foreign people, caused her discomfort. Only when the dust cover with the checkered inner lining hung smooth and clean under the cellophane envelope in our wardrobe, the world was my mother’s back in order.

    and More of Christiane Tauzher

    “I’ll say it now for the very last Time! Stories from the nearly perfect life of a mother”, by Christiane Tauzher, Goldegg Verlag, 14,95 Euro

    Well, Yes, since then 35 years have passed, yet I had to sit down, when my mother called to tell me to give that you intend to do with the “old Burberry,” her granddaughter. You don’t need it anymore, the color can make you pale, and the model you’ve seen enough. I had to swallow. Maybe the soon-also about me, the model is “old daughter”.

    “I don’t know whether you will be happy,” I said with a husky voice, “besides, he will be your arms.” In reality, I was the Wombi wanted to give him the Burberry, with which I was raised. He had been at my first communion, my confirmation, my graduation, my first violin concert, and my wedding preparations. And now he should sang so quietly in the possession of the Wombi move on? “Don’t you want to get him in a Thrift Store”, I asked my mother. (This is where I would have been able to buy it discreetly.)

    “First I ask my granddaughter if she wants it,” she replied. I already knew beforehand how it would turn out. Of course the Wombi wanted the Burberry of your grandmother. Why not. A coat and more in her well-filled box.

    C. Tauzher: The Pubertäterin

    the teenager Is at night in front of a closed door …

    she drew a little later for the Party of a friend of my jacket, it justified that the Burberry would be “too precious”. “The jacket was not cheap,” argued I, “take them off again and take one of your Jackets.” The Wombi practically begged me as long as my design down jacket with the floral put on, until I gave in.

    The jacket had a very

    When she came home from the Party to go home, she was wearing a white wool coat. “Uh,” I said, “what happened to my jacket?” The Wombi looked at me with a sympathetic look, as if I were crazy. “What do you mean exactly?”, she asked very slowly. “Whose is this coat”, I asked in the same Tempo. The Wombi saw to down and the Hand was in front of the mouth. “No,” she said surprised, “but … I’m really attracted to the wrong jacket. I need to have reversed.” My jacket, which was now stayed with the friend at the other end of the world would have been a white wool coat, I would have bought the accidental exchange immediately. So convincing she was. Unfortunately, it was impossible to swap a black, short, flowered jacket with a white wool coat and 30 kilometers later, still not noticed. “Let me smell your breath,” I said. Indignation replaced the Surprise in the Wombi. “What THE hell now?” fluffed up you. “Well,” I said, “if you really haven’t noticed that this white coat is my black down jacket, must I not assume that you …” “say it”, I noticed the Wombi contrite, “okay, okay, I admit it, Yes, it was unintentionally. I wanted the white mantle.”

    and More of Christiane Tauzher

    “I’ll say it now for the very last Time! Stories from the nearly perfect life of a mother”, by Christiane Tauzher, Goldegg Verlag, 14,95 Euro

    After I had held a short lecture about the property of others, I promise to make the exchange back. At the weekend she was on the way to Klosterneuburg, a half-day’s journey from us in Vienna. I wanted her to give even food, which has been rejected by her as “totally embarrassing”. Six hours later, the Wombi was back. With the white coat. “Where is my jacket?”, I asked. Answer: “Well, the microflora has said that I can keep the coat.” “Oh,” said I, “and for this Information, you drove through the whole city? Or had to say good-bye to the Flora of her coat, after she had assured that he’s with you.” Eye Rolls, Screws, Sigh. “How is it my jacket? You’ve brought but sure…” Again, Sigh.

    “Flora, you forget at home,” said Wombi, “but it is going to be hot next week, because you need the jacket. You’re wearing you also, never. Why are you doing it now as a Drama.” And I was thinking, why not. “She’s my favorite jacket,” I said, very, very sad, “I wear them so rarely, to save you.” The Wombi made big eyes. That was not you have been aware of. Ha! Me.


    Christiane Tauzher not want to give up your Burberry.


    “But I have a proposition for you,” said I still sadly, “until you bring me my favorite jacket, I can wear the old Burberry, your gave mother.” The Wombi was in agreement.

    It was a Holy Moment, when I put on the Burberry for the first Time. All were flown out, I was all alone in the cloak of my Childhood in front of the mirror in our hallway. Similar to the wedding dress on the wedding day, he felt. Particularly.

    dear Flora, if you are reading this – you can keep the down jacket with the flowers.


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