When I brought French Husband home to meet my parents, they were
skeptical. Especially my Father who often said, "Out of all the men in
Willows my daughter falls for a Frenchman."
My Father studied Yann's every move-- to the point of assuming that French Husband's Speedo was a motive for seduction and not simply a swimsuit.
"Real men do not wear Speedos," my Father advised.
The first time my Father saw French Husband wear a Speedo he nearly died. Under his breath in disgust he said, "Tell him to take it off."
French Husband saw the look my Father gave, but could not understand the words he had quickly uttered. "Repeat me what he say you."
Being a naughty tease I pronounced each word slowly, "My.. Father...said...to...take...it (pointing to his Speedo)...off."
"Off? Nue? Vraiment?"
I shrugged. My Father asked, "Corey what the hell is he saying?"
(That was how it was in the beginning. I repeated everything everyone would say slowly. Even though for the most part everything said was in English. Though the tempo and accent often got it the way.)
"I told him what you said."
"Told him what?"
"What you said: "To take it off"."
My Father rolled his eyes, "Corey! God forbid!"
Then we laughed.
French Husband studied our faces, our quickly said words, then our laughter. He was confused.
I told him, "Men do not wear Speedos in Willows."
French Husband grinned, "George, you swim nude?"
"Oh Jesus Christ Yann!"
My Father and French Husband got along after that. French Husband ditched the Speedo for swim-trunks that he called his, "Sac a Pommes de Terre".
Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?