Brendan's Hideous Offence
Sorry, I haven't had the opportunity to post much on my blog lately. Since we are inundated with Liberal party malfeasance these days, we need to lighten up. (Or at least I do. It's that or have a stroke.)
Master Brendan came home yesterday from his grade one class quite upset. Earlier in the day, .... well, ..... er, .... (how do I say this delicately, so as to not offend my sensitive leaders), .... he suddenly expelled a significant quantity of personally manufactured green house gases into his immediate environment. I'm told the expulsion was rather noisy. He glanced around the room and, instead of muttering the usual courtesies and apologizing for his indiscretion, grinned and said to his classmates, "Smell the nature!"
Now his regular teacher was not there that day and the substitute teacher had left the classroom for a moment, so my young knight-in-training probably thought he was safe in making such a comment. Not so. Survival in school means maintaining eternal vigilance.
Apparently, the French teacher was standing in the doorway, overheard his editorial commentary and was not amused. J'accuse!
Brendan was escorted to the office, where he was forced to write and sign a confession and apology which was sent home for parental signature. In his confession he acknowledged his error, noted he was sad, and promised never, ever, to repeat that hideous offence (I paraphrase his wording).
My son's horror at having to personally courier his confession to his parents and grandma (who is currently staying with us) can only be imagined. Brendan knew he had blotted his copybook. Imagine his surprise, then, when his confession/apology was met with great gales of laughter by Mum and Grandma. What was this? Were they mocking him? He burst into tears and had to be comforted and reassured that his, "smell the nature" comment was truly very funny.
By the time John the Mad Dad arrived home Master Brendan had composed himself and was able to muster a smile when I also broke into laughter. He knew by then that at Castle Mad a fart is not a degenerate act sufficient to launch an inquisition. At the castle a fart is just a fart and farts are funny.
Of course, Dad the Mad had to give tactical advice on how to handle humourless French teachers. The appropriate après toot retort in such circumstances to is "Quelle Horreur", not "Smell the nature." He may as well learn now that the French have no sense of humour in foreign policy or farts.
At breakfast this morning Lady Mad also advised him to use discretion when talking about his parents' reaction. She referred to l'affaire as, "This unfortunate series of events." Brendan totally cracked up at this line. I last saw him with his backpack secured to his body walking out the door chortling and murmuring, "This unfortunate series of events."
Indeed it was.