Benedikt Eickhoff

Dad wanted to visit Tuchos Rheinsberg

Dad wanted to visit Tucho's Rheinsberg. I was the only one who was interested. In the taxi, he kept repeating that I would have to be a brave boy, since we would never know what the place was like. I said, "How do you know I won't just run away?" "No, you won't." "And how do you know I won't try to throw myself under a train?" "No, you won't." "And how do you know that I won't just go out in the forest and get run over by a truck?" "No, you won't." I was becoming a bit exasperated. Come on," he said, "it's a nice place, I assure you." "I don't know," I said, "I have an intuition." "A _what_ intuition?" "An intuition about things. Like when I feel like there's something bad about to happen to me." "But what do you know?" he said. "I know it. I just know it." "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard. I don't know how you manage to live, if you're so full of intuition." "I don't know how you manage to live," I said. "But I know that I want to know how you manage to live. I want to know how you manage to live, Dad." "Well, I don't know how you manage to live," he said, "but I know that I want to know how you manage to live. I want to know how you manage to live." "Stop it, Dad."