She Has No ‘Excuses’

(I am 13 and goofing off in French class. Our teacher is valiantly trying to teach us different foods – and manners with which to order them – in French.)

Teacher: “And so how might we say…?”

Me: *chatting to my friends*

Teacher: “Mademoiselle [My Name]! Pay attention, please.”

Me: “Why? No one speaks French in Australia. And there’ll be a lot of people who speak English in France.”

Teacher: “One day, you will be in the French countryside where no one speaks English and you will be trying to order food and there will be no English translation of the menu. And when that day comes, you will know that I was right and you should have studied what I taught you.”

Me: “Yeah, right.”

(Fast forward three years, my family and I are on a trip to France and we stop at a small inn along the road somewhere in the middle of the countryside. My mother notices that I have been frowning at a menu for a long time.)

Mum: “Are you all right?”

Me: “I owe Monsieur [Teacher] an apology…”