... to say something mildly embarrassing, can't you?
We just returned from a week skiing. Whilst the high point for me has to be watching my sons tearing down the mountain having the time of their lives, and the low point was realising on the first day, after the first run, that I can no longer keep up with either of them when they have boards strapped to their feet, one of the most disconcerting moments came courtesy of Boy #2.
He and I were heading down the mountain at the end of the afternoon, and found ourselves sharing a gondola with his ski teacher, a mid-20's Belgian who speaks 4 languages fluently. As you do. This guy - let's call him Julian (because that's his name) - told me how he spent a few weeks last summer in Moscow, in an attempt to improve his Russian. (Because the Russians are coming, oh yes indeed. At least, to the ski fields of the Alps, they are).
He told me how impressed he was with Moscow, and how much fun it is to party there in the summer. He said how different it is to many places he had visited, and whilst we chatted about this, dropped in the comment that the girls there really go to a lot of trouble with their appearance, more so than he's used to back in western Europe. He was amazed by the difference between some of the guys in their tracksuit bottoms and laid-back attitudes to clothing, and their girlfriends teetering along on their arms in high heels and - well, you get the picture.
I laughed. And then, Boy #2 - probably trying to be supportive - said something along the lines of "You dress up when you go out too, don't you Mum?" Well, yes, I do, I said. When you're surrounded by people who make an effort, it seems rude not to yourself. And then, addressing the other little boy from his class that Julian was taking back down the mountain, Boy #2 said "And you know what type of dresses she wears when she goes out? Sexy dresses..."
He's 8. I'm not sure he even knows what the word 'sexy' means (we live in a cable tv-less house, which rather cuts out the opportunities for raunchy r&b type video clips), and he's probably mainly heard it on Psy's Gangnam Style.
Nevertheless, whilst Boy #2 may not know what the word means, Julian The Ski Teacher clearly did - and from the rather non-plussed expression on his face, it was not a word he would have immediately applied to the 47-year-old-no-make-up-wearing-rather-tired-and-a-bit-sweaty-after-a-day-on-the-slopes mother of one of his pupils in front of him...
We just returned from a week skiing. Whilst the high point for me has to be watching my sons tearing down the mountain having the time of their lives, and the low point was realising on the first day, after the first run, that I can no longer keep up with either of them when they have boards strapped to their feet, one of the most disconcerting moments came courtesy of Boy #2.
He and I were heading down the mountain at the end of the afternoon, and found ourselves sharing a gondola with his ski teacher, a mid-20's Belgian who speaks 4 languages fluently. As you do. This guy - let's call him Julian (because that's his name) - told me how he spent a few weeks last summer in Moscow, in an attempt to improve his Russian. (Because the Russians are coming, oh yes indeed. At least, to the ski fields of the Alps, they are).
He told me how impressed he was with Moscow, and how much fun it is to party there in the summer. He said how different it is to many places he had visited, and whilst we chatted about this, dropped in the comment that the girls there really go to a lot of trouble with their appearance, more so than he's used to back in western Europe. He was amazed by the difference between some of the guys in their tracksuit bottoms and laid-back attitudes to clothing, and their girlfriends teetering along on their arms in high heels and - well, you get the picture.
I laughed. And then, Boy #2 - probably trying to be supportive - said something along the lines of "You dress up when you go out too, don't you Mum?" Well, yes, I do, I said. When you're surrounded by people who make an effort, it seems rude not to yourself. And then, addressing the other little boy from his class that Julian was taking back down the mountain, Boy #2 said "And you know what type of dresses she wears when she goes out? Sexy dresses..."
He's 8. I'm not sure he even knows what the word 'sexy' means (we live in a cable tv-less house, which rather cuts out the opportunities for raunchy r&b type video clips), and he's probably mainly heard it on Psy's Gangnam Style.
Nevertheless, whilst Boy #2 may not know what the word means, Julian The Ski Teacher clearly did - and from the rather non-plussed expression on his face, it was not a word he would have immediately applied to the 47-year-old-no-make-up-wearing-rather-tired-and-a-bit-sweaty-after-a-day-on-the-slopes mother of one of his pupils in front of him...
He was talking you up though! He was trying to be your wing man!
ReplyDeleteI'm with Pippa - he certainly meant well! Would love to know, however, just what mental picture Julian The Instructor was envisioning at that moment...
ReplyDelete