"I'm not allowed to say the "F" word" announced my six-year-old goddaughter one morning recently to her teacher - a statement probably not the most inconsequential to be greeted with at the beginning of a school day, and undoubtedly one that spawned all the normal signs of panic - palpitations, sweating, trembling, shortness of breath, difficulty swallowing, if not a distinct impulse to head for the door.
Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings, indeed, comes much to amuse and divert and yesterday was no exception. Over dinner the Celt's beloved sister-in-law, in town for a couple of days, told the story that caused me almost to lose it. I was luckily not chewing or drinking at the time so I didn't choke from food only from sheer hide-my-face-in-my-napkin, unstoppable laughter - something I needed for I was very grumpy about the level of noise - a jazz band and singer, no less - in my favorite, if low-ceilinged, restaurant. Boy, did I need to laugh.
Whether or not the teacher immediately twigged what was going on, I cannot remember, but at some point, if only in a conversation with mama at the end of the school day, she must have done - my god-daughter and her father were taking a trip to France and were not yet telling her four-year-old sister. Her father, a lover of puns, told her not to mention France and phrased it "Don't use the "F" word."
The delight of it kept coming back throughout the meal and each time reduced me to giggles - so much so, the Celt told me to "shut the France up!" which set me off into giggles again. Absolute delight!
A digression.
A crucially timed digression, need I say. An extreme bit of good fortune for your friends, too, that you didn't happen to be munching ballistics at the time, such as the odd, irreducible chicken bone.
ReplyDeleteJust curious to know if purple, mispunctuated praises are the only comments to be responded to here?
ReplyDeleteGiggles are contagious -an infection that is always good to spread!
ReplyDeleteFrance off! (So loved this delightful intermezzo.)
ReplyDeletetoo cute! I just might have to borrow "shut the France up"!!
ReplyDeletehappy weekend!
joan
Laurent, thank you. Believe me, for a number of reasons I was happy not to have my mouth full but, if it were, chicken bones would not have been involved. I refer you to previous comments I've made about dead bird!
ReplyDeletele style et la matiere, Thank you. I'm giggling still, on and off.
ReplyDeletehome before dark, thank you. We all need these moments, don't you agree, when laughter, perhaps out of all proportion, completely possesses one?
ReplyDeleteKehnan, thank you. I always respond to comments. Sometimes I can do so right away; others, such as this, require more thought and thus take a little longer. That said, sycophantic praise is always welcome, of course!
ReplyDeletefor the love of a house, thank you. Borrow at will. It's a very useful phrase when used judiciously.
ReplyDeleteWhat a charming twist to the F word scenario. We could have happily
ReplyDeletesubstituted France when our youngest was precociously picking up bad language. As it was we suggested that District Nurse was a very naughty expression but never thought it would catch on. Imagine our surprise when a tiger at the zoo started snarling horribly at something in the middle distance. We turned round to see our nice plump boy toddling towards it. He suddenly stopped in alarm and shouted Ditniss Nurse! Ditniss Nurse! at the majestic carnivore.
Dear Uncle Barry
ReplyDeleteI was six then but now I am nine so understand what the "F" word is and apologise to Mrs Penty my year 1 teacher for using this rather rude phrase at the age of six.
practically perfect in every way
ReplyDeletevictoria thorne, thank you. I'm still having a giggle about it.
ReplyDeleteDear Miss Anonymous, thank you. That is a wonderful finale to this story. You are officially the youngest reader of The Blue Remembered Hills. Congratulations and much love. Uncle Blue
ReplyDelete