ERIC VINCENT

My son's idiocies

Site: http://ericvincent.no-ip.org/

© Eric Vincent 2006. All rights reserved. All resemblance with situations having existed, existing or to come, would not be fortuitous since my son is the character and that all is true.

I’m father and I didn't have children to let them become unemployed persons, despite all successive governments disastrous tempts (from left to right) to restore the French as subscribers of the NAFE (National Agency For Employment). I worry about their future, I supervise their studies but I hope first of all they will find their way while enjoying their jobs and that they won't lead quickly to a dead end. If orientations or tastes of my two eldest children work hard to appear, the future of the last one, two years and half old at the time of the facts, can’t be yet known, except by the use of card-telling. Finally, not so sure because my brigand opens out such an imagination to accomplish one thousand and one misdemeanors, that I maybe only have to observe and analyze him to know what he will make in twenty years. The chronicle that I begin today, mixing Freudians theories and the suburban honor code, could be titled: “Tell me what kind of idiocies you do and I’ll tell you what you will become.” No chronology is respected in this narration; the facts occur as they go back up to the surface of my tormented memory. Note: in order to preserve his anonymity, my son will be designated under the Pirate's nickname (© Guy Richart, writer and friend) or by his “S” initial. The photos will represent him with a very generous Gaussian fuzzy. Present or former parents, the following words will remind you laborious experiences. Future parents, the scenes of an unbearable violence should slow down your procreative impetuses. ***

IDIOCY 1: the curtains The bedroom curtains interested the Pirate very early, as all children. The drapes holding at the PVC windows more by miracle than by strong glue, he never stopped to pull them and to make fall them. Worn out, we used big means: bye the curtains, tidy at the wardrobe summit. The operation took place under the son's eyes. Tragic mistake! As soon as we left the bedroom, the Pirate started the ascension of the closet (strong construction made by my father-in-law, woodworker, fortunately!), until the shelf where the coveted curtains were stored. He recovered the tin rods and made a Caesar's compression of it! You brat! Hypothesis 1: Will “S” become a mountaineer or Mister Muscle in a circus troop? Will he ape the most famous of our old junk recycle worker (Caesar the sculptor)? ***

IDIOCY 2: the water-closets duck While creating the famous water-closets duck, to clean, to disinfect and to perfume the toilets pan, Johnson S.A certainly ignored it would generate an indefectible interest of kids for the plastic bottle with the stretched out neck. The Pirate, fan of the small very calm corner, equipped with a key lock closing door, easy to operate, doesn’t depart to the rule. The johns, minuscule territory of one squared meter, overflow with idiocies possibilities. With the brush, the water-closets duck, the deodorizing spray, the bog paper rollers, the pan, the inexhaustible water reserve (I push as long I win the right to replay…), the cord of the aerator, the soil carpet (urinate over it to see if it mops…), the water-closets embody a true game place. Amateur mathematician, I elaborated the following formula from the stallion measures of the one squared meter johns. The idiocies sum is equal to 8 to the power of surface (expressed in square meters), either: Σ=8

S

For a 5 squared meters bathroom, it gives 8 to the power of 5 possible idiocies, either 32768 possibilities! Worrying, isn’t it? Some theoreticians suggest that the formula is not true anymore if the pharmacy closet is hidden in the bathroom… “S” withdrew therefore in the toilets and emptied the content of the water-closets duck on… him! Then, he rubbed himself because he attributed some foaming properties to the product. He smelled of a delicious duck (not lacquered) perfume but his clothes landed directly in the washing machine. Parents, if your youngsters don't understand anything to anything to your supplications, jeremiads and other orders, brief, if they are plugged, try the Destop: ideal to clear. Hypothesis 2: Will “S”, careful with his hygiene, flirtatious, work in a perfume shop or will he become septic tanks cleaner? Case especially complex to analyze! ***

IDIOCY 3: the lady-killer Sibylline title, isn’t it? Would the Pirate have a taste for serial murders, jostling his fellows toward traps, just to send them to the hell? Well, he never refuses discrete assaults to send biggest schoolboys and girls face against ground. But, here, it is not about this kind of gesture. “S” is a playboy like George Clooney or Brad Pitt: without the least hindrance, he hangs equal-aged girls in Ikea or Mac Donald's games places, lie down them joyously on the ground and give them some French kisses able to make blush Rocco Siffredi! Absolutely not startled, he tests all little girls. Some cheek, the kid! And when we ask him on what he does some kisses, he answers: “On the tongue!” I swear it, it is not inherited! Hypothesis 3: Will “S” turn to the mackerel, to the daring movies producer? Will he take the place of Hugh Heffner, the famous “Play Boy” magazine boss, always surrounded with his Bunny Showgirls guffawing to laugh to the least word of his speeches? One more time, his generous and without restraint attitude, lend to one thousand and one interpretations not deprived of salacious explanation. ***

IDIOCY 4: the Harry Potter’s fan Harry Potter exercises a fascination without name on all youngsters of our planet. “S” doesn't escape the phenomenon. As you know it, the small wizard imagined by J.K.Rowling, lives in the cupboard under the staircase of the 4 Privet Drive. “S”, aping his favorite hero, also lives in a cupboard. The proof with a picture:

But he is better than the most famous of the wizards: he lives at the first floor of the cupboard. Hypothesis 4: Will “S” end his life in the hoosegow or the cupboard (in French)? Or will he sideline people (to put in a cupboard in French), as a good French entrepreneur, perfectly trained to the brutal techniques of the salaried employees social treatment? How to interpret this will to play his aerial superiority?

IDIOCY 5: the Chinese girls Between my Pirate and the Chinese girls, it is a long story of interest close to the devotion. When I speak of Chinese girl, in fact, it is rather about the Asians girls. Their slanted eyes, so characteristic, interest him. Well, dad too, it is true! And Granddad also! Surely hereditary! But the following story will prove he doesn’t make do with appreciating them for their beautiful split almonds eyes. The facts take place in our favourite Chinese restaurant: “S” wants to kiss our usual and charming stewardess (lucky kid!). He discovers a new waitress, in formation. Some minutes later, whereas he comes back from the toilets, he sees her, the arms charged of dishes, and tempts to feel her buttocks! A maternal intervention, at the ultimate second, will stop the guy from testing the buttock firmness. Missed! Another time, perhaps… In fact, every time he is in a waiting line, mister “S” has got some wandering hands. Shame on him! As extra news, during the same meal, mister the brigand was not content with throwing an interested eye to the glass of Mei Ku Lu (alcohol served at the end of the meal in a minuscule dish in the bottom of which the gentlemen discover flat Asian beauties as boards to bread and the ladies have the right to a guy whose sexual appendix has been stretched scandalously with the graphic palette). “S” tasted the forty degrees alcoholic fire-water, coughed, spit and vomited everywhere on the table. The shame… I cleaned what I was able to in the toilets and we left as quickly as possible after having paid. The story between him and the Chinese girls is only starting. Hypothesis 5: Will “S” open a Chinese restaurant? Will he become a famous proctologist, working where others have some fun? ***

IDIOCY 6: it’s ready! The Pirate at table (less a square meter) means the total explosion of my mathematical idiocy formula: Σ = 8

A

The golden rule of gold: never never never turn the back to our son at table. He pricks everything which interests him, in our plates, in the glasses (alcohols included, especially champagne) and in the pans. He dares some mixings I don’t dare (those who know me, know I am an adept of goat cheese – strawberry jam, scrambled eggs with surimi and curry for the breakfast, of buttered bread with a sardine and lemon mixture toward 6 o’clock am). Sometimes, he steals cat’s croquettes. He is crazy of all chocolate derivatives and never hesitates to paint or to get painted with the sleek cocoa. He also transfers what he doesn't like, withdraw his togs if he stains his cloths (culinary version of the strip poker), go up on the table to make the tour of the kitchen. But the Pirate, in the restaurant, already made the table guests tour to suggest and to take the orders. Chocolate crepes, with Chantilly and strawberries, he doesn’t let some choice. But it’s the thought that counts. Hypothesis 6: Will “S” open a restaurant; will he be a waiter or a taster? Will he become the apostle of the modern and daring cooking? Gastronomic critic? Ah, yeah! It is not impossible. His brother, when he was as old as my Pirate, suggested to a family neighbouring my table: “Don't eat this, it is not good!” Tense reaction of the waiter, maybe because the restaurant was twice stared in the Michelin guide? Critic about grub, yes, gluttonous as he is, it holds up. ***

IDIOCY 7: the applied physics Son of a chemistry and physics teacher, native of a nation where research is virtuous, “S” experiments all sorts of odd ideas which, who knows, maybe will save the planet later. Water, as you don't ignore it, will embody the major worry of the future generations. Our son, environmentalist in the soul, works on this topic. I expose the problem: how can we put 2 litres of water in one fifteen centilitres glass? Answer: my son pours until the bottle is empty! Simple as hello! New problem: how much round-trip do you between the sink and the damaged zone to mop the hundred eighty-five centilitres in excess? Do we earn time while using a bowl to repair his idiocies? What is the probability it swings a kick in the container before we empty it in the sink? Today, the Pirate doesn't know yet how to solve all these problems. In fact, I think he sends water everywhere to play Noah or the raft of the jellyfish. Hypothesis 7: Will “S” be a dunce in mathematics and in physics? Will he integrate the ENA, the students of ENA all able to be, as nobody ignores it, to import water if somebody confides them the management of an ocean? ***

IDIOCY 8: the hamburger “S” likes fast foods, as most kids. As he never misses any idiocy, he turned to human hamburger, somewhat assisted by his father, it’s true. The proof with a picture:

News: Squeak Company would be interested by this sandwich that has the integrated French fry and that trickles of mischief sauce. Hypothesis 8: Will “S” play the men sandwiches? Will he be filled with ketchup? Will he make salads?

IDIOCY 9: the assistance for a person in danger The action takes place in the bathroom. Comfortably dived in a foamy bath, I conducted the dominical scouring when suddenly, my small Pirate disembarks in the room provided with one of his favourite instruments: the feather duster. The accessory is composed of a long stem in hardened plastic and a downy and aired head made to accumulate the dust. He held it by the soft part. Without warning, he delivered a stroke on my skull. Violent pain but I don't react. During one second, I jump on the opportunity to see how he will to react in an unexpected emergency situation. I collapse face forward, head under water and don't flinch anymore of one millimetre. I don’t breath. Will he call his mother for help? Will he yield to panic and cry? He will hurry on the phone and call the firemen (Yes, it seems incredible but he knows he must type in “1” and “8” to compose 18, that he must say his name and answers correctly when we ask where he lives in) ? Nothing of all this occurred: he beat me with very hard plastic strokes! Dirty kid! I tighten the teeth and play the dead man. He carries on in order to ascertain my death. Suddenly, I end up straightening me and to throw to him: - Will you continue a long time to beat me? He flies while laughing. Sic… Hypothesis 9: As the capital punishment has been abolished by President Mitterrand (As you can see, you don’t need to be 2 years old to commit some idiocies!), “S” won't be able to exercise the executioner profession, executor of the convicted to death. Was he torturer in another life? Will he practise as crocodile’s breeder and will he organize down price visits price for all jails who will ask for it? The Pirate is simply hurried to get his of my skinny inheritance… ***

IDIOCY 10: the kitchen, land of the extreme dangers (except my masochistic sadist panoplies collection) “S” will be 3 years old in some days. He is one meter three tall; he weights nineteen kilograms and his shoes size is thirty. He is monstrous, as strong more than most children aged of one supplementary year. The kitchen worktop, thanks to feet of twenty-one centimetres, culminates nearly to ninety-six centimetres. The Pirate can access therefore to a crowd of very interesting things but fundamentally dangerous. Like the ceramic hob command buttons he adores to test. It is an intelligent precaution never to let something on the hob because you risk discovering a boiling pan or, worse, a Caesar compression of the mobile phone let here without care. Until now, we rectify his vain tempts to fire the house but how long will it last? Don’t laugh about electrical melting: a technician told me he discovered a “flatbed egg” IBM laptop. He needed to take it off with hammer and burin after complete cooling. His customer, a travelling salesman, was not three years old except mental age. “S” evidently considers the refrigerator as his exclusive property, a kind of supermarket in permanent self service, hides himself under the kitchen elements (with 21 centimetres feet, it is easy) and uses all available utensils to ornament his existence. Of course, there are the dateless objects: the knives (from the innocuous butter knife to the monstrous butcher model), the snails’ pikes and the ineffable pastry roll. But his favourite is the clip for sausages, merguez and other chipolatas. “S” found a supplementary function: to seize, why not, the daddy “sausage”, typically masculine appendix. To stroll naked becomes a true adventure. Hypothesis 10: the several extraction trials of my modest cocktail sausage reinforce the hypothesis of a brilliant career in the torture domain. As the capital punishment has been abolished, the legal torture is not admitted, will “S” find an outlet in a parallel profession as “Human resources director”, “dentist”, “seller of cod-liver oil” or “TF1 youth programs director”?

IDIOCY 11: the washing machine Two types of machine exist to wash: those you load by the over and those with front loading. Never never never buy the second model! The façade is accessible to the Pirate. Good, I save you the details but in summary, if something lack in the house, verify above all in the washing machine in function. The Pirate knows how it works, knows throwing it and covers his favourite fuzzes there. He also knows the program begins again from A to Z when somebody stops the machine more than 5 consecutive seconds. It’s gone for one hour thirty… Irritating, exasperating! By luck, he can’t reach the laundry. I don't dare to imagine if it was the case. Did someone already see the result of five laundry litres in one washing cycle? I tremble some. And by luck the machine doesn't have a 90 Celsius degrees program. Phew! Hypothesis 11: Will “S” be a future Sears demonstrator? Or will he be then, merely astride the cleanliness? (Good quality, that!) Unless… Oh yeah! Will he launder dirty money? As soon as I have 500 euros banknotes wad, I propose him to see how he reacts. If I finish behind the porthole of the washing machine and he leaves with the money, I will be fixed.

IDIOCY 12: to drink or not, it is necessary to choose “S”, as small boy, was already attracted by the bottle. To drink or not, he didn’t choose. Between beer and Apfelrester (Apple brandy), he elected the more rot-guts. The proof with a picture:

I reassure the readers: he didn't test the brandy. On the other hand, he already tempted to hiss all sorts of alcoholic (or not) liquids. But if I didn't have four pairs of eyes to supervise it, he/it would have made farted already a éthylotest. Hypothesis 12: Will “S” become a money brewer or simply a brewer? Will he distil fruity words games or will he distil simply some fruits? A thing is sure: bandit as he is, impossible that he becomes policeman (honest implication).

IDIOCY 13: the potty and others pee and poo One year after laborious beginnings, “S” is not yet clean. In fact, he knows the stressful and irritating power his pee and excrement have on his parents, particularly when his evacuations don't go where they should go: to the toilets or along a wall when he cannot do otherwise. Therefore, he abuses regularly while pissing in the shorts and the trousers to exhaust us, sometimes several times per day, while hiding himself in unimaginable recesses (such as palettes of flowers at Leroy Merlin, huge shop for the house), or even directly in front of us while fixing us right in the eyes. For those who would not have discerned the message, it is called to challenge and to make crap his parents. The following anecdote is the crustiest. All happens when he began to seat on the potty. I put him on the plastic object, he grouses, refuses, storms. And as usually, he ends up giving up the yellow liquid under the inflexible father pressure and under the less negligible pressure of his bladder. He shouts: victory! I congratulate him with many bravos. I run to look for paper to wipe the small drop (of which he now gets rid while wiggling his ass over the toilets, hilarious gesture!). I come back: pee fully disappeared! Nothing on the floor, I touch his shorts, his trousers, nothing! I question him: - Where is your pee? - It’s Boudid. Boudid is the name of his favourite and beloved plush dog. I catch the bestial thing by a paw, heavily loaded. Plush had acted as sponge or paper toilet! Direction the washing machine (what explains why the pirate perfectly knows how the washing machine works, by dint of observing his stupidities cleaning). Hypothesis 13: Will “S” turn to a cleaning maniac? Will he find a second life for all plush dogs, teddy bears and rabbits which vegetate in the cupboards, saving the paper toilets, saving whole forests? Does he have an environmentalist's soul? Is he a damned pain in the ass born child exhausting himself to break his parents’ candies? No doubt, you will get your own opinion under the light of these oppressive facts.

IDIOCY 14: the wet fluid water The pirate likes to play with the universal liquid. In the bath, copiously emptied with washcloths and sponges, in the muddy pools of autumn, at table (to see the 7th idiocy, the applied physics), in the swimming pools, “S” manipulates the water fearless and without reproach. To assume his passion, he is near to the drop. Here is the story which attests it. The pirate takes water with profusion. Of course, he drinks without thirst, like a hole and spits the surplus on the floor. I confiscate his water bottle to avoid a tsunami. He bawls like a veal which would have lost its mother and ask for his drink immediately. I retort: “If you want to drink, lick your water on the floor!” He got four-legged and started lapping up the tiling! Hypothesis 14: Will the pirate save the water of our planet? Will he become water alcoholic? Will he try to drown fish? Or will he put water recycling systems on the tiling?

IDIOCY 15: the absolute weapon Facing the lunatic, my wife bought a book filled of advices about contradictory situations with children, written by experienced people (explanation: people who know people who know other people whose grandparents had a gifted, obedient, devoted and full of tenderness child). I read it but my wife didn’t. Nobody’s perfect… Therefore, the book in question, appetizing titled “How to be obeyed without shouting?”, lavishes never to put a spanking to a child, not to shout over him, to explain to him and to justify all our decisions, sum up: to act with him as with our boss, except the polished shoes (our child doesn't give us an increase of salary at the end of the year). When the parent does not (never?) get the waited result, when the child refuses to lull, the major advice the book gives, is to put the child in the corner or in idle time on an isolated chair, a number of minutes equal to his age in year: 3 years, 3 minutes of corner. I have, surely, tempted to apply these marvelous principles. By definition, a hyper active child remained not on a chair because he can fly when he wants. The spanking threats, the explanations, the future deprivations don't have any effect. He only waits for the confrontation. The punishment refusal by all means! So, what do we have to make him obey and calm down? To contain him in his room, of course! He will cry, to calm himself, to end up taking care with his games and all will have gone back in the order. Count 3 minutes from the moment where he is silent. Mistake, serious mistake! Three minutes, it is 180 seconds too much where “S” will wreck the room, break his toys, return his picket, throw his plastic truck against the paneling, devour the cardboard or the plastic between his fangs. In three minutes, he is able to ravage everything. Either! I cope, I prepare the estimate of restoration but I won't open this flipping room door! Then, “S” takes the absolute weapon: he vomits! He throws up, pukes, sends back and chucks out! On him, the bed, the carpet, his toys but avoids conscientiously the flooring too easy to clean with a dish-cloth. And then, if he has got a little juice, he urinates in his frock and craps also. The parents must act to clean, obviously. The absolute weapon functioned; he won and captured dad and mom attention who are hopping mad but take care of him. He is serious, this animal! The vomiting is very frequently used, as soon as we annoy him too loud, as soon as he doesn't get what he wants. He adores practicing it in the public places or in the confined spaces such as the car. Hypothesis 15: Will “S” to become a pain in ass-born boss? The terror of the unions on which he will vomit cohorts of layoffs? I quiver some in advance…

IDIOCY 16: the pig house "S." received a sumptuous toy box for Christmas. He immediately verified if the lodging suited the pig he embodies marvelously. The proof with a picture:

Hypothesis 16: Will “S” sell his ecological (wooden) solution to the Breton pigs’ breeder? Will he solve the housing shortage? Will he be tester of coffins?

IDIOCY 17: the car specialist "S.", as soon as he knew how to speak, was interested in all vehicles and transportation means. His love started with trains for which he always had an unequaled passion. Note that for him, trains can fly because of some movies ("Back to the future 3"). Then, he likes it was the tractors (the "cractors"), bulldozers, cranes, shovels, etc… Then, he discovered the tramways that he called "Burnt" (Cramays in French)! Since he was 2 years and half old, he knows the major part of the car marks, recognizes them thanks to their logo (even though with new models), or even thanks to their spelling (Fiat or Ford). However, he committed some nice enough distortions or imagined some shortcoming. By example, he thought his daddy drove with a Porsche-Volkswagen! Even though the two marks had some blood relationships, I reassure my fans and especially my taxes inspector: I drive a Golf, not a 911! The Pirate was able to recognize a Porsche 911 under restoration in a garage, at a far distance, fooling the boss of the shop. In the style distortion, note that his grandfather drives a "Horror" rather than a "Rover" (I agree, it’s not a very successful model). Alfa Roméo, with an emblem containing a small green snake, becomes "Alfa Gros Vélo” (Big Bicycle) (because the quality of the transalpine is not better than a bicycle one! I know about quality, I’ve got 4 Fiat…). He called it also “Alfa Numéro (Alfa Number : but which one? Zero ?). This small guy "S." drives with dad in the garage: reverse gear, he turns the wheel to park the car, tightens the handbrake, put in neutral passage, extinct the lights, the motor and withdraws the key. He learns easily the driving instructions. He just needs a pair of glasses because he considers a Smart as a big car.

Hypothesis 17: Will "S." become a cars seller? Will he buy tons of cars? Will he, like in his formula "Porsche-Volkswagen", conduct fusions of enterprise?

IDIOCY 18: the expressions As our national comic actor, Jean-Marie Bigard, my son invented number of pronunciations or appropriated expressions, very oriented by his media environment. For example, when we want he obeys a displeasing order, he answers: "it is a true scandal!" (The Mask with Jim Carrey). Some old people deduct he will embody the future Georges Marchais but it is an ideological step that I won't clear. Other case: the birth name of his two primary school teachers (Two! Lucky boy! Tsss…) is Michaëla. But he finds it more convenient to rename her: "Mickey est là (Mickey is here) " About cartoons, I noticed that the innocent "Bambi" became the cruel "Barbie" (yes, cruel, even if it is the infamous war criminal or the scatter-brained doll for idle little girls). He regularly throws us some fates pulled from Harry Potter (already under the ascendancy of the Pottermania). But he distorts them enough so that the spells stay inefficient. The famous "Experliarmus" becomes "Expélulusse" in his mouth, "Expecto Patronum" turns into "Specto Fellow." We escape the terrifying "Avadakédavra", deadly formula. Some words or synonyms lack in our French language and expressions. "S." estimates that the cats eat some meatballs like in Ikea restaurants… (Swedish balls are better, I confirm!) To his discharge, the Pirate distinguishes German of French, discover English and distinguish the Japanese of the Chinese. Only three years old, not bad, isn’t it?

Hypothesis 18: Will "S." reform the French language? Will he shake the old dusty prunes who

haunt the benches of the French Academy? Will his language develop itself based on movies, cartoons and other 3D animations ?

IDIOCY 19: the convenient life "S." lives with his time. No, more precisely, he lives with some advance on his time. At home, everything interests him and he wants to operate every machine. Camera, DVD reader, satellite decode, K7 reader and televisions don't worry him. The tactile personal agendas besides and when they bug, he knows how to reset them. On the other hand, never let the steam iron plugged with the unfolded board and some dry linen to iron. Because he also knows how to use it, he already tried. He is very helpful but a few daredevil. He goes alone to the toilets, cleans himself but tries always to verify if the paper roller measures hundred meters. Can we see in it a certain propensity to control or to make crap the world? It’s up to you to judge it. In the daily life, he knows the bank card gives money and coins in many electronic devices. But we need to repeat that it is necessary to work hard to have some and that it is not unlimited credit… He adores crossing the toll of freeway. Not us… Of course, mister “S” wants to do like adults: to open or to close the doors with the keys, to put the house under alarm, to open the car, to go up in, to put his security belt and to drive. It's a good thing he puts his belt! He wants to cook, he prepares his omelette. His last whim: to make coffee...

Hypothesis 19: Will "S." become a true fairy of the house? Not sure: a fast visit in his bedroom

reassures on his propensity to do a monstrous shambles.

IDIOCY 20: first steps at school "S." is not like the other children. Since the first school day of school, he was the only one pushing to enter in first of all when the other cried. Every evening, he screams because he/it refuses to leave the school. To say truly, it is a drama because the school became his hunting territory: he tortures the other children of his class, smaller than he. He terrorizes the teachers, prove to be the first for idiocies, refuse all authority, don't collaborate or only after threats or tight negotiations. Despite his total scattering, his isolation, his noteworthy angers, he learns the songs while hearing them once, while playing alone, whereas the other repeat them many times. The objective of the year is to count until three. “S.” begins additions with his fingers. The children benefit from a hanger with their photo to mark their place. “S.” knew it before having the photo since he read his first name. He knows all capital letters and knows some lower-case letters. Since a long time, he repeats that he is tall and therefore, that it is logical that he is with tall children. Saturday morning is a blessed day. He is the only schoolboy of his class present on Saturday morning (the good habits have to be taken as soon as possible); so, he is placed with the greater sections and trends to be then exemplary. One of his teachers doesn’t appreciate to see him arriving on Saturday morning, specifying that we could keep him home. Out of question! She takes a strong dislike “S.” because he is out of norms in size (106 cm for an average of 92-94 cm for the other pupils), in weight (21 kg for 16 for the others) and in foot (size 30-31) but also in intelligence, in advance. He only begins to disagree with the school system that adores to level by the bottom. The first steps already look like kicks in the anthill.

Hypothesis 20: Is "S." gifted? Maybe! But one of the worse: those who like to do the shambles.

The next Lex Luthor?

IDIOCY 21: Holidays, the beach The action takes place on a beach of Brittany. Havre of peace, sand immensity as far as visible, the beach embodies a territory demarcated by water and a baldness auspicious to a surveillance loosened of S. by the parents. A beach is ideal, perfect to unwind and not to make idiocies. What can he do? To go to the water, the sea? He is afraid of the waves! It’s wonderful! Does he want to break some sand or rocks? He can try it, no problem! Of course, we must not to provoke him while giving him a shovel and a bucket, instruments of his baseness, of his spinelessness, armed arm of his interior turpitudes… So, everything is OK! Nothing can occur. Alas, we forgot his imaginary overflowing like a high tide. The tide was low. So, the pirate was eating sand handfuls, licking, sucking, nibbling at, or even crunching some shellfish. Sum up, he began to heat us, just to avoid taking us cold. Then, sudden, he started taking off like a rabbit toward a muddy zone let by the low tide. And when I say that the zone was muddy, I weigh my words. Nor one, nor two, I throw my grease at the bandit's pursuit. But, the time to react, to parley with Mrs Vincent about the identity of the fool who should move his ass to run him after, S. had taken a good beforehand length. He was in the middle of the zone, hilarious. When my 90 kilograms met silt, my steps became heavy, I penetrated. His 18 kilograms surfed on the viscous, muddy matter whereas I got sucked down like a big idiot. Ten centimetres of vase above my bugged Nikes! I ended up catching up him, to lecture him and to extract him of the mud. I will not speak, taken into consideration the sensitive smell of my wife, of the pestilential dried vase odour clearing itself from my moistened shoes and socks during the return trip in the car. Do you think the tribulations of the valiant knight in Brittany stop there? Absolutely not! On the same beach, always at low tide, he followed me in my peregrinations. I wanted to meet small crabs blocked in big puddles, etc… Brief, I daydreamed, enjoyed the air full of iodine, tasted my holidays amply earned when suddenly, along a salty rill formed by the sea withdrawal, I saw a drifting cap, falling toward the offshore! The headgear was followed by a tee-shirt, shorts and plastic beach shoes. S. striped off and gave back to the sea what belonged to his family! Hopeless... If I would not take care, he would have been naked, with his clothes bound for Ireland…. Hypothesis 21: Will "S." become the specialist of the muddy jokes or will he work with charity associations, making huge donations? I don’t doubt you will get your own opinion in light of these oppressive facts.

IDIOCY 22: Holidays, the snow We aren’t adepts of winter sports. I have as much style on a skiing pair as an elephant with a tutu. My wife looks like also but as a female elephant. For us, winter holidays are essentially made to take advantage of snow, to take a rest, to go for a walk and practice sledge. This year, I discovered a magnificent hill close to our German apartment. Some kids had nearly arranged a promontory at the summit, to prepare their coming down in all tranquillity. Less courageous, I choose to accomplish the two third of the distance because the slope seemed too much raised for my taste. I sprang, heart beating, full of courage in the veins. The plastic sledge of S. took a mad speed, the brakes didn't answer anymore. Flight hovered, instant of eternity! Icare, I’m coming! Crash! Violent landing, I continued on the left side during the half of the race. Result: abrasions on the whole left arm, hematoma on the left buttock, same effects on the left leg. Worse: the sledge split in two parts! I’m waiting your question: what is the link with S., except that I stole his plush dog later to test the coming down by sledge? The story carries on… Whereas we left the hill toward the apartment, S. found something on the road. He hurried to collect it before we could object whatever it is. He waved about his trophy while proclaiming: - I found a piece of wood! We ran to admire what would be either a baton for the four times hundred meters relay, either a torture instrument he would use on animals and incidentally on his parents. We decomposed ourselves as observing the object conquered with a high struggle. It was a dog dropping! Frost by the wintry temperatures. We order him to throw the piece of excrement and cleaned his fingers with cool snow. Small private conversation: S. always innovated during holidays. First night of sleep, first standing time, first steps. Holidays are wonderful! Hypothesis 22: Will "S." work at Picard, Maximo or others frozen food firms? Will he drain septic tanks? I am skeptical…

IDIOCY 23: Holidays, the mountain during summer As we saw it in the previous episode, the pirate always innovated during the holidays in Germany. In Bavaria, as he was only 11 months old, whereas he was just able to stand up (he walked 8 months later in Germany... in the snow), he achieved an extraordinary exploit. The evening approached. We lay down S. in his bed. Two minutes after this daily ritual, we returned to the bedroom to lengthen us too. The pirate had disappeared of his bed and had crawled flat on the stomach on the floor, exploring the surface of the bedroom! A true exploit! He hardly held to his bed bars, was unable to move without crawling. How did he succeed to clear bars as high as him?! We found the explanation under his small bed: the base was unhooked on one hand on the whole length. He had rolled to soil and had plough along while crawling, such a commando. He used to shake his bed with strength that he destroyed the fixing system. S. the destroyer had just hit his first stroke, the number one of a long set, everlasting these days. This Bavarian episode had been preceded of another highlander fact, in the Black Forest. S. was a small baby. Our family doctor had warned us: don’t pass one thousand meters of altitude for babies. Laughable advice because I wonder how the highlanders do: the parents live at the summit but the nanny lives in plain or lower… brief… no comment!. Therefore, while circulating, we take care to avoid the cols. Except one time! The pass was 1100 meters high! Would its clearing to provoke the irreparable? We wondered if the pirate would inflate and deflate himself. However, at the right moment where we brought down again the mountain, S. gave out a very resonant "pffffuittt", such as he had deflated himself, at the exact moment where we pronounced the verb "to deflate"… Strange! Hypothesis 23: Will "S." become a magician, the king of the disappearance? Will he vanish in the air like Houdini, while only giving out a noise of gas flight? How to know!

IDIOCY 24: Holidays, very close to the Rhine During 2007 holidays, the Pirate justified his nickname of “thief of the seas” beyond my imaginary. We were in a "bazaar" store of Breisach, Teutonic side of the Rhine, searching post cards to water our friends with colourful, sunny pictures, trickling of degrees whereas all these elements shone by their absence during this rotted summer. I held 12 post cards. One of them had got a sublime Black Forest recipe, in French and was for a colleague gluttonous like a pussy while Lady Vincent dragged three unhappy cardboards, witnesses of her desire lack to copy and paste her messages. Suddenly, S. disembarked with a curious air, hiding his hands. A fast glance, a tight crossexamination, a beating up and I discovered a sherbet and its stick in their paper sachet. He had stolen an ice! No more, no less. The Pirate was a thief. I was dismayed. He received a public spanking, placing me outlaw (the spanking is forbidden in Germany) and a sermon worthy of Moïse facing the debauched Hebrews manufacturing the Golden Veal. My son was a thief… But the worse occurred after. When he spoke, I recalled him sharply he was a thief! He began to contest, only one hour after the facts. Then, some hours later, I had become the guilty party, the thief of ice! He returned the accusations with a hallucinating effrontery!!! Hypothesis 24: Will "S." become a politician? That means liar, thief, manipulator, swelling, etc…

IDIOCY 25: the garden, hunt and picking The Pirate, as we saw it during the previous episodes where I enumerated the huge list of his qualities for self-help, seems to be an idyllic child (Noise of saliva swallowing of the author). No, of course! He has a defect bound to genetics. He is, we must verify it, colour-blind. Indeed, whereas strawberries, raspberries, tomatoes are red or green, he pick them! What an untiring seasonal worker! We explain it is not necessary to pull them (to pick, delicate gesture, is not a verb appropriated for the Pirate!), he exerts to compose the meals of summer before the hour. Farewell raspberries colour euh… raspberry or yellow (It exists and it’s delicious! Finally, when we have enough time to see them to reach maturity…)! Goodbye our dear varieties of woods strawberries, of Mara, Plougastels or Tagadas (It grows up on plantations of transgenic green Haribo!). As for our multiple varieties of tomatoes, with hallucinating shapes, from the blood tasty Beef Heart to the astonishing Crotchet of Crimea, with "S.", they have all the same geometry: the foetal state of the green tomato. The colour-blind Pirate pirates fruits and vegetables, worse than the Mildew and the bacterial fire, united! Hypothesis 25: Would "S." have some green hands? Does he have the soul of a green ecologist able to return his parents green of rage?

IDIOCY 26: the garden, land to build a jail The Pirate produced his biggest fact one Saturday evening, whereas he only was two years and half old. Everything occurred like this: Lady Vincent was outside, taking care of the garden, putting the bad herbs in the compost tank, talking to the plants, to the flowers, to the vegetables (green… see the previous episode), a strange habit. I finished the dish, passed the last sponge after having wiped everything. I took a bag of garbage and left on the terrace to pour it in the triple compartment trash can (German trash can, don't look for!). The so-called trash can was 50 centimetres far from the kitchen window door. Once outside and the back turned, I heard a breath followed of a resonant klang completed with a noise of door handful locked. The access to the garden is possible through 3 windows-doors exempt of outside wrists. Impossible to open from the outside! We could have taken the garden chairs to step over the wire fencing and to join the entry of the house. But the entry door of the house is deprived of handful. Without the key of the apartment, we were trapped like rats. "S." had just contained us outsides… He was twenty o’clock, the night fell and the cold weather seized us mildly. We hit to the tiles in order to make him come back but we only heard some laughs. We tried to distinguish him through windows and curtains but nothing to do. He left and remained out of our view. Imagine a 2 years and half old child released in a house, reaching the cupboards, the toolbox, the buttons of the radiant and halogens fires, the flush, the shower (55 Celsius degrees hot water), the drawers filled of interesting things such as forks, knives, fondue pikes or skewers, etc… Yes, "S." could catch all these things because the Pirate was 126 centimetres high at 5 years and half old… He is giant! We threatened some worse punishments, we promised wonders and we sold our souls to the Devil so that he opens. Nothing availed. He laughed and I saw the fateful instant where I should explode the triple window of his bedroom (out of question to touch to the kitchen bay, bigger, nor to our bedroom, to curdle our buttocks! He would pay! The martyrdom lasted twenty minutes, twenty very long minutes whereas the night had nearly fallen. We overcame his inflexible will by two threats: he would never go in a train (he is fanatic of trains!) and no Mac Donald's during all his life. He opened all sheepish, with tears. We gave him a great sermon, no spanking, nor even a kick to the buttocks. We were too happy to save our skins without any destruction. Then, we always took our keys with us but now, he is 4 years and half old at the hour of these words, he is tall: he won't do it again, hey? Hey? Sure… Hypothesis 26: Will "S." become an exceptional negotiator or will he become screw in Fleury Mérogis jail? Does he want to become owner, while using the shortest and radical path that means to kick out his parents? Did he have knowledge of the truthful story of a 97 years old neighbor, jailed with a friend on her terrace, during one summer night, following a dysfunction of her electric shutter? (I hate automatic devices…) How to know?

IDIOCY 27: the garden, the animal’s pursuit Our son is not an adept of limits, as you could note it many times. He likes to repulse them, to get round them, to make jump them, to test them, etc… The garden is enclosed on the left, on the right. The bottom is constituted with an enormous palisade made of wood and a roughcast concrete wall. Only the cats are able to jump at the summit. So, the garden is secured. Yes but the Pirate is able to convert the impossible into the possible. One day, I found him therefore at the neighbours. He wanted to catch a cat which used to come and to leave when it saw him disembarking on its territory (Wonder why…). How did he it? Simple: he had passed though the 10 centimetres interstice situated between the post of the wire fencing and the palisade made of wood. Conclusion? If you look for a faille, even minute, in your plans, call on the Pirate. Or then, don't have a garden. Don’t have cats. Nor child. Don't get married. Don't buy an apartment. Have no sexual relations, it is surer and make a vasectomy or a ligature of tube. Is it enough? Hypothesis 27: Would "S." be a contortionist? Will he end his life as architect, with twisted ideas? Will he become catcher of roaming animals? What enigma!

IDIOCY 28: the garden, earth of silliness "S." loves animals and gardens are an ideal place for discovery. Of course, he doesn't know all of them. Besides, what is the use of the ridiculously small tail of a boxer dog? The question in picture:

Hypothesis 28: Will "S." become an animal "undertaker" but while pinching the tail of the dogs? Does he want to verify if the dog moves the tail or the tail moves the dog? Astonish questions…