The Return of my 4 year old Nemesis

As the girls and I were picking Jack up from school today one of the other parents asked me if we were returning at 2:00 for the show today. Although I received 4 letters from the school and 2 emails during the past two weeks, I just never got around to interpreting them so I had no idea there was a show. Against Jack's wishes Molly and I decided we would return for the show.
The show was cute. Jack's teacher spoke at the beginning and a parent I had never met asked me if I understood her. I smiled and said, "not a word, that's why I'm recording it". She laughed and explained we were going to go around in a circle and introduce ourselves but I could use English because everyone there will understand. I started to prepare my introduction in my mind in German and I have to admit, it was darn good. When my turn came I introduced myself as Jack's mom, introduced the girls and explained that we speak a very little amount of German, but we all want to speak as much as possible. All the moms smiled, and I felt pretty good about my travel outside my American comfort zone of using English whenever was possible. That is until my lovely 6 year old leaned over to me and said, "mom, that didn't sound too good" Oh thanks honey, while you're at it, why don't you tell me how fat my butt looks today and that you can see the zit I'm trying to cover up on my chin. Sweet girl.
After the show we were invited upstairs for snacks and time for the kids to play. Jack showed us where he eats snack everyday and what the correct routine entails. Jack and I sat for a snack and the girls went off to play, and then I see him. My nemesis. He sits next to us with a huge piece of watermelon and smirks at me as if to say, "You ready for round 2?". So I point to the watermelon (wanting to start small) and I say, "vassa melin". He points and corrects me and says, "vassa melON". OK, so I repeat, "vassa melON". His mother turns and corrects me, "vassa melONA". I look at the kid and the little punk smirked. That turkey was intentionally misleading me (of course this is my interpretation as I am convinced all little German kids are out to get me). So his mom tells him to speak English and he starts counting. He got to 15, but ya know what...he skipped 11. I wanted to correct him, out of the competition we have, but I don't' t think his mom would have liked that. He not as smart as he thinks...Until next time you little punk...I'll be ready for your childish games. Bring it on!