Tarjay
While waiting for Sarah to try on some shirts at Target today, a boy, maybe seven years old, was waiting with me while his mother and sister tried on some clothes. Although it was winter and we were indoors, he was wearing sunglasses; he told me that the red stool next to him was both a cylinder (he rolled it around) and a drum (he made some loud noises on it). Trying not to encourage him, I didn't humor him by putting on my sunglasses, and it wasn't long before I began to ignore the creep.
To get my attention, he started moving his mom's shopping cart around like crazy. At one point, he even warned me to move my feet. Before I knew what was happening, the shopping cart had become his "space ship." Cute. If that had been me, my mother would have said something. Charming, indeed.
After some time, his mom hollered from her stall, "apporte-moi les pantalons" ("bring me the pants"). Oh, a bilingual creep.
When he returned, he really went nuts with the shopping cart, moving it rapidly in front of me. I couldn't take it any longer. I put my hand on the cart to stop it, and, in a voice low enough his mother couldn't hear it but firm enough that he would know he was in trouble, I said, "assieds-toi" ("sit down"). He got real serious, turned away from me, and didn't budge the rest of the time.
For the first time in ten years, I felt like all those French lessons had some real-world value.
To get my attention, he started moving his mom's shopping cart around like crazy. At one point, he even warned me to move my feet. Before I knew what was happening, the shopping cart had become his "space ship." Cute. If that had been me, my mother would have said something. Charming, indeed.
After some time, his mom hollered from her stall, "apporte-moi les pantalons" ("bring me the pants"). Oh, a bilingual creep.
When he returned, he really went nuts with the shopping cart, moving it rapidly in front of me. I couldn't take it any longer. I put my hand on the cart to stop it, and, in a voice low enough his mother couldn't hear it but firm enough that he would know he was in trouble, I said, "assieds-toi" ("sit down"). He got real serious, turned away from me, and didn't budge the rest of the time.
For the first time in ten years, I felt like all those French lessons had some real-world value.