Au, what a pair

Some friends of my parents came over with their eighth grade son this afternoon, and it came up in conversation that they have a 21-year-old German au pair living at their house to help out with their two younger children. "Sort of that fair skinned, extremely blonde, north German look," they said. "Close to Scandinavian. She is very pretty."

I'm a world traveler. I love German frauleins.

"Man," I said, looking at the kid eight years my junior as he sat on the couch, "the ole 21-year-old German nanny, eh?" All that was missing was the double pump elbow jab and the wink. He gave a meek smile, and nodded. His mother was sitting less than two feet away. "I wouldn't mind meeting that girl," I said to his father.

"Oh really? Yeah, she's kind of a bigger girl."

I'm not sure if that was meant to deter me or encourage me from doing so.

All of the sudden, I felt like a suitor at some German baron's castle during the Thirty Years' War, back when the premium on a protein filled diet meant the bigger the better was the name of the game. Kind of a bigger girl? Why would he tell me this in such context? I'm certainly not "kind of a bigger guy."

"What does that mean?" I asked, without trying to sound too superficial. "Like how big are we talking?"

He shot a look at his wife, who took it as a cue to remind me of how pretty she was.

"She's very pretty."

"Right," I said, "but what, is she like a tight end or something?"

In my experience, the best system of describing girls is by equating their body types to the position they'd likely fill on a football field if they were dudes. Fullbacks, Wes Welker's, offensive lineman, linebackers -- everyone knows what I'm talking about here. Including the dad sitting to my right.

"Yeah, like a small tight end," he said, nodding his approval. I looked at his son, who was also nodding.

What I picture when I picture a tight end.

I'd be more interested in a Marvin Harrison type girl.

"Son, go to the car and grab my phone so we can show Bayless a picture," his mother said.

"Do you want her phone number?" the father asked.

I certainly did when we were focusing on the blondeness, and the Germanness, and the 21-year-old au pairness. But now? Now that I was picturing Jeremy Shockey sprichening zie Deutsch?

"Uhhh..." I muttered, awkwardly, since I had never met these people until today, "I was kind of joking..."

"Oh."

The son came back into the house with the cell phone a few minutes later, but it did not have a picture.

"I'll let her know you might be calling her today," the mother said when they got up to leave an hour afterwards. "She loves to go out and have fun."

I'm sure she does. Just like Jeremy Shockey.