The other day I had to take Ben and a couple of friends, Corentin and Baptiste, (brothers) into Flers for their rugby training. As Rosie was in the UK I had Tom with me (he has given up Rugby for Athletics - another blog, another time).
The boys were chatting and I was pretty sure, judging by the giggling, it was 'schoolboy humour'. Corentin was gabbing along in rapid French when in mid sentence I heard 'blah, blah, blah, willie. Followed by fits of giggles. I looked at Tom and said 'Have you and Ben been teaching English?' 'Yes, some words' was the reply. 'I can imagination' was my respond. So two French boys, now knowing I knew that they knew the word 'willie' , used it rather a lot for the next few minutes.
On the way back I was cut up by a car and from the back sit a French voice (Baptiste) says 'bloody driver' followed by giggles. I had to ask the question. 'And what else have you taught them?' The reply of 'you don't want to know Dad', was not really reassuring. Nevertheless I thought I'd better correct their newly learnt English.
So when Gwenaël arrived to pick her sons up I told her my tale of English lessons and the words her sons had been taught and I did add that I had had to correct one phrase. I had told her sons that 'bloody driver' was not a correct thing to say and it should be 'bloody French driver!
And the bruises have healed now!