June 20, 2010
A French Woman...
....Like the ones you don't want to bump into at a bank, a boulangerie, in a car, or topless on the beach! A French woman of that type was sitting on the low wall of the school. She is a teacher and she was crunching an apple.
That piece of wall happens to be my youngest son's favorite play area. It is shaded and fun to climb onto and jump off from. In the mornings, my daughter and him take turns sitting on my lap there, before the gates open and the Emirati anthem plays.
And so he went to the regular section of the wall and found her there. When I turned my head, they were locking horns. I am acquainted with her, so I addressed her, as the adult, and gave her the benefit of the doubt as I always do with my crazy kids. It was a particularly hot day and we were all a little distraught.
- "I see you are in full conversation with my naughty child", I smiled understandingly.
She crunched her apple.
- "He said he wants to pass by, but I told him I would really rather not move", she explained.
I laughed to loosen the air. Then, I told him:
- "Do you know this lady is a teacher here? That you shouldn't be climbing the wall?"
He ignored me. As though I hadn't interfered, he continued to say:
- "Je veux passer!" (I want to pass)
I grabbed his little arm and we walked away. By then I had found my other kids, loosened my grab on him and began walking to the car.
My youngest then freed himself of my grip and ran, all the way back to the wall where the French woman was still enjoying her apple. With his finger he warned her:
- "I am not your friend!"
The teacher lit a cigarette in the parking lot as we waved goodbye from our car.