Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Saturday, 13 June 2015
Yesterday, my wife and I had dinner at her friend's place. There was her friend, her friend's partner, their daughter (Buffy's owner) and the friend of daughter who was having a sleepover at their place. The two girls love each other like sisters and they grew very fond of us for some reason. They are also very naughty, especially together. At some point, I started laughing at some joke on TV and they thought I had a funny laugh. My laugh is pretty normal as far as I know, but they thought it was weird and wanted to hear it again. So after whispering to each other some cunning and devious plan, they turned to me as I was sitting on the sofa, screaming "Tickle Attack!" and started tickling me. The two of them. Two nine years old girls were tickling me right on the neck, where I am very ticklish and pretty helpless. So I laughed uncontrollably, a different laugh, nervous, sometimes frantic and high pitched. The girls went hysterical and so did my wife and my wife's friend. "It's hilarious just watching him," said Buffy's owner, which might sound like a mere observation, but just for the vocabulary used, deserves to be a great unknown line. My wife even took a video of me, forty seconds out of five minutes of pure tickling torture. Thankfully, she won't Facebook or YouTube it, because she wouldn't do this with other people's children. Because it was very humiliating. But it made our evening. The girls have always been merciless towards me, but this beats everything they ever done. I kind of dread what they have in mind for me next.