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Wednesday, July 12, 2006

 

morning in "Monte-P"


Viccolo, originally uploaded by plastictaxi.

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.”


Comments:
dude.

that's hilarious.
 
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