"Bonjour, mon cher. Avez-vous bien dormi?"
Those were the first words Kellie uttered as I lumbered down the stairs.
"Please don't start with me," I begged, "I just woke up."
Before our first trip to France, Kellie began studying French. Now, two years later, she speaks well enough to annoy me in two languages. To speed up the learning process, she immersed herself in French. She switched the language on her computer to French, her shopping lists are in French, and even the kid's chore lists are written in French, which provides a handy excuse for not doing them. She listens to French music and watches French films. I'm surprised that it hasn't increased her libido since every French film on Netflix is a hump-fest. I don't understand why those Frenchman are so obsessed with sex, they act like they never get any. Worst of all, she’s constantly talking at me in French. And when she's not bombarding me with French she's haranguing me with a rambling discourse on everything that happened during her last French class. My eyes glaze whenever she starts talking about her French lessons. French, French, French - it's all French all the Frenching time. As I write, she's sitting at her laptop mumbling away in French. I want to instigate an argument just so she gives me the silent treatment.
Kellie wants me to learn French, but I refuse; it's of little value in San Diego. Spanish might be useful, but have no aptitude for foreign languages. Even after years of studying Spanish in high school and college, I can barely order chimichangas at Taco Bell.
"I listen to you talk about your stupid blog so you can show some interest in what I'm doing," Kellie demanded." If you don't, I might not translate for you when we're in France this summer, and if I do, I might just give you an incorrect translation." That threat has me worried. I have this vision of Kellie and I having dinner at a pretentious French restaurant, our table overlooking the Seine. Kellie, her face buried in a napkin, choking on laughter, is desperately trying to stem the flow of Bourgogne Chardonnay spraying from her nostrils while an unamused Parisian waiter glares at me after I order tampons, medium rare, with a side of ketchup.
Once we get to France this summer she can nag the locals instead of me. Until then I'm not going to respond if she addresses me in French.
"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?" Kellie said smiling as she arched her back and looked at me over her left shoulder.
"Sorry, dear," I replied, "I'm ignoring you unless you speak English."
That should teach her a lesson.
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I'm hanging with the fine folks at Yeah Write again. Please join us.
Ok, going with Kellie on this one. Joe, let me fill you in on a secret. Because WE (your readers) know you have ONE goal (more sex from Kellie) and will do anything to get it (post blogs, endure ridiculous circumstances- as per cruise blogs- and travel the globe) I would encourage you to take a page from the Morticia Addams school of thought. To all of Joes followers and friends, let me ask if this (Kellies method) is not THE best way to drive a man crazy and Joe is just not - in any way, shape or form, GETTING IT? I would love to hear comments. BTW-remember that Gomez and Moticia NEVER actually kissed on the lip the entire series, but they were as passionately devoted as parents as they were to each other. Something to think about....
ReplyDeleteYes, I have a one track mind.
DeleteMrs. Chatterbox took eight years of French in school and when we were in Paris I asked her to order lamb chops for me. I received a grey lamb brain instead. Yuk.
ReplyDeleteEeeewwwwwww
DeleteI am very impressed with Kellie's dedication to learning a new language! Just remember, if you hear anything different than "pomme frittes" with ketchup, you may be in some serious trouble!
ReplyDeleteI'm going to watch her very closely.
DeleteWell, who knows you might end up ordering "tampons, medium rare, with a side of ketchup" anyways, since you can't guarantee the French will understand you or Kellie.
ReplyDeletep.s. Cuando tengas una pregunta en Espanol, buscame yo te ayudo.
Ha ha ha. I actually got the punchline--that’s about the only line I know in French. Thank God for disco.
ReplyDeleteway impressed with kelly!! and ha, joke's on you!! i'd be sneaking a little translation book in my pocket. i'd suggest your tampons be taken well done. very funny!!
ReplyDeletewow - I can barely form proper sentences in English! very impressive:)
ReplyDeleteHmmm. Chimmichangas.
ReplyDeleteThe only French I know is ballet French. I do, however, remember a surprising amount of Spanish from my high school days (a lifetime ago).
ReplyDeleteHa, so funny! If you feel like correcting Kellie, the proper way for her to address you, her husband, is "tu" not "vous." Vous is the more formal "you."
ReplyDeleteLoved the last line, although my guess is you DO understand an invitation to the bedroom in any language ;)
I can't wait to read about your trip. It has the potential to be hilarious!
ReplyDeleteyou guys are too damn cute.
ReplyDeleteAwesome post, Joe! I laughed the whole way through!
ReplyDeleteI really enjoy your writing style. This post cracked me up. The world can be pretty grim sometimes. Thank you for sprinkling cyberspace with a little bit of hilarity.
ReplyDeleteYou should probably prepare by learning French words for things you don't want to eat--like beef tongue. Or maybe you want to eat that. As always, enjoyed your post. :)
ReplyDeletePlease, please, please blog about your trip. It'll be awesome and hilarious, I know it for sure.
ReplyDeleteI bet you understood Rod Stewart's version!!! This is fantastic and I'm will all of the above who would like to see you blogging about your fun, especially about the mis-translations!!!
ReplyDeleteI enjoy your humor. I snorted a little at ordering tampons with a side of ketchup. My mom minored in French, and always wanted to go, but my dad would never go with her.
ReplyDelete"Kellie, her face buried in a napkin, choking on laughter, is desperately trying to stem the flow of Bourgogne Chardonnay spraying from her nostrils while an unamused Parisian waiter glares at me after I order tampons, medium rare, with a side of ketchup."
ReplyDeleteI second what RFL said. That^ made me snort with laughter. This is some damn good stuff. Loved it. Oh, and I miss France, even though they do speak French.
I took French for 4 years in high school and used to speak it relatively well. I barely remember any of it though, which is a shame. I'd love to learn it again. And go to France for the summer too!
ReplyDeleteI spent a few months covering a sales territory for an ill Sales Rep. The territory was Quebec. Google Translate became my best friend.
ReplyDeletehaha - this is great! "French all the Frenching time." I took French for one year in high school and I don't remember much. Always wanted to really learn. I admire Kellie's dedication!
ReplyDelete