Wednesday, July 12, 2006
morning in "Monte-P"
I wake up and Bea is getting dressed before she goes to the Italian language class she takes every morning. It is a little early for her to go, I think. She is thinking about breakfast: the choices are a bit of cereal and melon here at home, or coffee and croissant in a cafe by the school.
“Maybe I'll just have a cappuccino and a pasta, like they do here.”
“A pasta?” ...I'm still waking up.
“Yeah”
“A PASTA?”
“A pasta?” she says, mocking my tone.
“PASTA? ... PASTA pasta?”
“Shut up” she says, because I am getting repetitive.
“But... we're talking about a croissant here, aren't we?”
“Yeeeessss.”
“And they call it a PASTA?”
“Yes.”
“But don't they call Pasta Pasta?”
“Yes.”
“But why would they call a croissant a pasta?”
Bea gets up and waves her arm as she moves to the bathroom.
“Because it looks like a big pasta to them.”
