I'll miss the boys when I leave, and I'll miss Paris, it really is beautiful, and lovely, and full of lovely things-
Eeughhh, I have just discovered I can't say the word lovely anymore after watching Hitchcock's Frenzy last night. Anyone who's watched it will know why, anyone who wants to know should watch it, but be warned: it involves one of the most creepy scenes I've ever seen. It was a really good film, with some fairly graphic murders, and a naked corpse falling out the back of a potato truck onto a road, narrowly escaping being run over by a following police car.
Also I kept getting distracted by having to identify all the old cars correctly, Spitfires, Dolomites, Heralds, Stags, etc. (Fellow Uptons will empathise, I actually made my friend stop and look into a dusty old Triumph the other day, oohing at it, I think she thought I was mental. But it's the first one I've seen in Paris!) We're coming to the end of our Hitchcock collection, and a sad thing it is too. It has been an education.
What I was going to say before getting flashbacks to the 'lovely' scene (ugh) was that I will not miss being an au pair/nanny/nounou. Even the little one has a blooming evil streak when he wants to. I was trying to hurry him down the stairs to get back to school on time after lunch, so went down ahead of him and called up a few times,
-hurry up please, you can tell me while we're walking, come on...
He shouted back in his most insolent and superior voice
YOU STOP TALKING. IF YOU KEEP TALKING I'M NOT GOING. YOU STOP TALKING. STOP TALKING NOW. YOU DONT TALK. IF YOU DON'T STOP TALKING I WON'T GOING.
I wasn't even saying anything, I was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I went outside into the courtyard so I couldn't hear him.
He came outside giving me the blackest look- shockingly dark for such a cherubic looking boy, and continued to shout
IF YOU TALK I'M NOT GOING
-come on we're going to be late for school, listen, stop,
YOU STOP! NO WE WON'T BE LATE. YOU LISTEN TO ME
He storms back towards the stairs. I despair, stuck between wanting for him to calm down and stop being a hideous brat, and not wanting him to be late for school, but having no desire to have him continue to bully me all the way down the street in front of people.
-Don't speak to me like that, you are being very rude
NO YOU DON'T SPEAKING TO ME LIKE THAT YOU'RE RUDE YOUSTOPNOW!
There was more like that, then I got him to wheesht long enough to say
-but I'm an adult, you don't speak to other adults like that, would you speak to your teacher like that?
NO BUT I SPEAK TO YOU LIKE THAT
-No you certainly do not
YES I CAN. *accompanied by evil laser eyes*
I got him back to school, late, "c'est pas grave" teacher says. I must have looked how I felt.
Only an hour left before I have to pick them up again, hideous.
Happily, I have 4 days off starting at 8.30pm tonight- bring it on. Gotta love Bank Holidays!