The weather is heating up. I know it's only Premature Summer Pining (PSP) but I can already imagine what my life will be like in Paris once summer kicks in... I can take the children for picnics, sunbathe on the Champ de Mars, skip about in revealing clothes, winking at any French man that walks past because by the time summer arrives I will have a bad case of Mass Boy Hysteria (MBH). I'm getting MBH a bit now actually. If you've never heard of MBH, it's a very serious condition that aflicts women when the weather gets warmer and men start taking their shirts off and everyone seems really shaggable and gorgeous, even fat hairy men in white vans. ('Pervy white van drivers' by the way, are not unique to Britain, they are just as pervy in France.)
MBH and PSP often go hand in hand, so I must be careful these next few weeks and remember it's NOT summer and I CAN restrain myself. I've restrained myself rather well these last few months, too well. In fact you might say it's not a case of me restraining myself from the opposite sex but rather the opposite sex refraining themselves from me. Humph.
Yesterday the eight year old girl asked me if I had a boyfriend and it started out as a giggly, fun conversation but then she asked me:
'You no have a boy who have your heart?'
'No!' I laughed
'You never have boy who give you heart?'
'No...' I laughed again, slightly strained this time.
'You no have boy who love?'
'No.' I couldn't force a laugh at this point.
'You never have boy who say you are a beautiful? I love you? You my girlfriend?'
I thought, are you trying to break me little girl!? Do you want me to crumble and admit that the last time I had a boyfriend was when I was doing my SATs (and I don't mean the ones you do in Year Nine)?
She then told me about this boy she kissed in the swimming pool on holiday. Even an eight year old is getting more action than me! She said 'I don't know why I kiss him' and then shrugged her shoulders and I thought 'Ah, we're more alike than you realise little girl. In ten years time, you'll be saying the same thing to your best mate, but it won't be kissing a boy you regret...'
I think this idea everyone has of Frenchmen being randy bastards is a myth, otheriwse surely I would have 'got mine' by now? I've been tricked. If I go home in July without having sexual intercourse with a Frenchman, I will consider this year a failure. Forget the fact that I can't speak French, haven't saved any money and haven't thrown myself into the Parisien Théâtre scene, just let me have sex with a nice Frenchman, preferably from a banlieue, and I can go home and congratulate myself on a job well done.