You know on Lifetime when people are making out and get interrupted, and then after the interruption they say, “Now, where were we?” and go back to making out? That’s us after yesterday.
When we were last making out, I was telling you that when I was in Michigan last week, a fact I clearly cannot get over, I got up with my college roommate Dottie. Back at Michigan State, even though we were very involved with our studies [drinking], she would inevitably stop everything and command that we turn down the Yaz
and listen!! because there was always a baby vole squeaking outside that she needed to find and feed with a dropper or what have you. She had, like, wildlife bionic ears.
Dottie lives in a big ol’ farmhouse in the country now, which comes as a giant surprise. She married someone we met in the dorms, someone who is very good-natured about coming home to an injured fawn lying on the couch with a pillow and a tall drink.
A good midway-ish point between her house and my mother’s is Frankenmuth, this very touristy German oompah town where I always loved going.
If there was some big event, like a grandparents’ anniversary dinner or what have you, we’d all head to Frankenmuth to one of the restaurants that inevitably serve chicken. Which, really? Chicken. Let’s drive out and get chicken.
But? Chicken with Glockenspiel!
And that’s where Dottie and I met last week: under the glockenspiel. I filmed this 20 seconds of glockenspiel glory from my car’s open roof, and I have to tell you that seeing this Pied Piper story was SO EXCITING, because it was exciting when I was 2 and therefore remains so. RATS AND A PIPER THIS IS AS GOOD AS IT GETS OH MY GOD. It buries a fawn on the couch.
It pretty much went without saying that we’d go to Bronner’s, The World’s Biggest Christmas Store® right there in Frankenmuth! Sometimes people can’t believe how lucky I was to grow up where I did, but it’s luck of the draw.
Once I was having dinner with some friends in LA, and this one friend I really like a lot was stunned I’d never had the dish we were having. “But they always serve this on flights to Switzerland,” he said, incredulous.
BUT HAS HE BEEN TO BRONNER’S??
Every boyfriend I’ve ever dragged home from Seattle or LA or North Carolina has had to go to Bronner’s. Only one actually liked it, this absurd artist I dated in Seattle and with whom I am still friendly. In fact, on Instagram the other night he commented: “Need more Bronner’s pictures.”
So here we go.
What you must understand about Bronner’s is it’s THE WORLD’S LARGEST Christmas store, which means you dream of an ornament? They have it. This one inspired me to have a Pope, poop and pop tree next year. What say you?
Honestly, the store goes on forever. And you’re all, Did we already see this or am I having a fever? It’s a lot. A lot to take in.
In this riveting video, you can hear CHRISTMAS MUSIC IN JUNE what even is this? It was so weird, it really was.
Once, in college, Dottie and I were leaving to walk to a party. “Wait, I have to go get a jacket,” she said, and on a shocking note I was impatient. “Oh, you do NOT,” I said. “IT IS JUNE.”
Except it wasn’t. It was still May. But I was so insistent in that moment that then we stood on our front stoop giggling like idiots. So when we were listening to Christmas music last week, I said, “IT IS JUNE.” My hilarity never ceases.
Anyway, obviously we needed sustenance so we sat down for some coffee and chocolate cream pie. This is not us, above.
Then it was time to wrap things up, so we headed outside.
Anyway, because it’s tradition, we headed outside and Dottie said, “I’d better go back in and run to the bathroom first.” I did not yell at her that it was June, because that would make no sense.
But what I did do was sit on a bench, the kind they set out for dudes who are so over shopping for ornaments. I can’t recall if I looked at my phone or stared blankly into space, but what I do know is I didn’t notice the —
“OH MY GOD!” whisper screamed Dottie the millisecond she got to where I was sitting.
Right next to me was a baby bird. I’d spent five minutes next to it without noticing and Mrs. Green Jeans, over there, saw it immediately. We saw the mom over in the rafters, looking on, and we Googled it, and this bird was old enough that it was going off on its own and then going back to the nest. Just in case, though, we went back in and spoke to the front desk person who has to stand next to that terrible cross/tulip/Christmas/July 4 configuration and asked her to please check on the bird in a while and she seemed very concerned and said she would.
“I was so tempted to take that bird back with me,” said Dot, and this? Is a surprise to no one.
So that’s my trip to Bronner’s, and NOW I can stop with my trip to Michigan.