One of us missed the point here...

Simone stared at the carpet in dismay. "B!" She cried. "You have to get to the bathroom sooner. Seriously. Because you left it until the last minute, you left a trail of pee all the way from your room to the toilet!" B considered this thoughtfully. "From my room all the way to the toilet?" He asked. "Wow! That's a new record!"

Les enfants, ça dit n'importe quoi...

Au parc, Simone entend son plus jeune s'écrier, "J'étais le dernier à sortir de ma mère." (Bon. On rentre maintenant.)

What did you call me?

"Can I play Wii tonight?" B asked. Simone frowned. "What do you think?" B beamed. "Yes?" Simone crossed her arms. "What did you call me this morning?" "Mean?" "You called me 'stupid'." B's expression fell. "Oops."

Une maman, c'est fait pour faire tout ce qu'on lui dit de faire, non?

"Tiens ça," commanda B. Simone refusa. "Mets le sur l'étagère pendant que tu enfiles tes bottes." Le visage de B s'empourpra. "Non. Tiens le." "Tu sais," dit Simone, "Si tu te comportes comme un bébé, je peux t'adresser la parole comme à un bébé." "Je ne suis pas un bébé," les sourcils de B se froncèrent. "Tu es stupide." Simone ne dit plus un mot. Elle se contenta de regarder B qui, un instant plus tard, fit, "Aïe..." En effet. Aïe.

That's too old!

B got his happy birthday kit together, complete with wooden candles and cupcakes as well as rubber icing. "How old are you Mom?" Simone told him. B looked at his candles and frowned. "That's too much," he finally declared. "Pick a number between 1 and five."

L'école... pffft

Le devoir de la semaine se trouvait, comme d'habitude, dans le duo-tang noir de B. Il y avait quelques phrases d'écrites en haut suivi d'un grand carré blanc. B se mit à lire. "Marie a 8 oeufs. Son ami, Pierre, lui a offert 7 oeufs de plus. Combien d'oeufs Marie a-t-elle maintenant?" Sans sourciller ni hésiter, B enchaina avec la réponse: 15. Simone désigna le grand carré. "Il faut montrer comment tu as fait pour obtenir la réponse, mon grand," dit-elle. "QUOI?" Il grommela mais au bout du compte, il écrivit, "8+7=15". "Heu, il faut faire un dessin," précisa Simone. "Quoi????" "Et oui. Il faut dessiner 8 oeufs plus 7 oeufs. Et puis il faut dessiner 15 oeufs." B regardait sa mère comme s'il s'attendait à ce qu'elle change d'idée. Finalement, il fallut s'y faire. L'école exigeait qu'il dessine la réponse. Pfft. Histoire de s'amuser, B coloria 8 oeufs en bleu et 7 oeufs en jaune. Du coup, les 15 oeufs, eux, étaient verts!

Psychologically speaking...

Simone walked into the clinic and immediately sat down on the bench to take off her shoes. She then headed toward the gym where she pulled out a wobble board and proceeded to balance on it. As she tried to remain upright on the wobble board, her gaze wandered. "Where's my magazine?" She wondered to herself. Knowing that after her treatment she would have to spend some time in traction, Simone had brought some reading material. Then the realization set in: she had brought THAT magazine. Convinced she must have left it on the bench when she took off her shoes, Simone raced back to the reception area. No magazine anywhere in sight. Oh no! Maybe someone had found the magazine and picked it up. Simone cringed inwardly at this thought, remembering that the cover of the Psychology of Sexuality magazine bore very explicit pictures. It was, after all, a French magazine... Taking a deep breath, Simone decided to nonchalantly ask the receptionist whether she'd seen a magazine on the bench. The receptionist shook her head. "I don't think I've seen anything," she said. "What was it about?" "Oh, you'd know it if you'd seen it," Simone blurted before she could stop herself. So much for stealth...