Well, once again, I'm thinking tell me why I want to go to France? And, as before, it's because our summer guest has displayed less than overwhelming fascination with us - to wit:
hello
please can you stop to comment my publication and one my friends because they didnt understand why you speak him and they dont know you please
Okay, so her English isn't so hot. Neither is my French. I figured out (once you get past the syntax problems of him/her/it) that she was asking me not to comment on her Facebook wall. I exchanged notes with her, and it turns out that her friends wonder who this bearded guy is that occasionally posts in stilted French, and it's embarassing her. Well, okay, I can understand that. In fact, I asked her a few months ago if it would have that effect, and she said no, her friends didn't do that. Well, guess they're learned.
Even so, it makes me just a little sad - ma petite fille grandit! - which makes me think Do I really want to see her again? And the answer is Of course you do - and her family, and the Saône et Loire area where she lives, all of which seems to be quite pretty. So I suck it up. The double 'please', though likely simply a translation artifact, helps. It reminds me that I really do like this kid.
I did consider adding a phrase to the little cheat sheet of phrases I absolutely want to be able to say (I carry it in the car and review it when at stop lights) just in case I meet any of her friends, that being: L'âge légal du consentement en France est encore quinze ans, non? -- but my wife says I can't do that.
No comments:
Post a Comment