Wednesday, March 05, 2014

The bunny who cried wolf
The doorbell just rang! Usually T calls me to chat on her walk home from school. Today there was no call and that was a bad sign. Sfiga adosso level bad sign. Then the doorbell rang. It was the post lady. The nice one. The nice and the mean post ladies are the only people aside from blood relations who have seen me without foundation makeup on. Today I was in rare form. I had just done a facial mask. That lady thinks I'm a wreck. She had to help me count out my change. It turned out that T got presents from her friends out of the country, Savana in America and Caoimhe in Spain. Then I ran back in and found out that I missed two of T's phone calls.

This is what happened with T's dreaded Greek test.

 T got the versione/text to translate. The professoressa told the class, "You probably will have heard this story before." But T thought, "What possible chance is there that I have heard this Italian fable before? I'm doomed."

She started with the first line. The young man -blank- of the sheep of the village. And the verb to fill in the blank was eneme and so she found a verb in the dictionary.  (Last night F and I labeled her massive, red, hard covered Greek dictionary with post-its so that she could waste less test-taking time combing the dictionary for the start of each new letter's section.) The verb was enemo which is related to enema which means to vomit and other things involving explosive bodily fluids. And so she said to herself, Hmmn, this dude has some kind of body explosion in front of the sheep of the village.

So she decided to leave the body explosion part out and go ahead with the rest of the story in which this poor dude, as T refers to him, is trying to corall all the sheep and he keeps going to the village people and saying that wolves will come soon, but the villagers ran out of the village three times. Finally, the poor dude says, jeez will you help me with the sheep or not? And the villagers reply, nah we're going to play. And then the sheep got eaten.

 The ending or moral to the story was, however, crystal clear: liars are never believed even when they're telling the truth.

 Wait a minute, T's internal monologue continued, this doesn't make any sense. It doesn't match the story of the poor dude with the intestinal issues. That's when it hit her: this is the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf.

In the last ten minutes remaining T went back to the metaphorical drawing board to start over. She remembered that in Greeek  when you have an imperfective you add an e before the word and a declination ending at the end. The verb eneme became nemo. As in Finding Nemo, but that's a different story. And nemo means something about devastating or sheep getting eaten violently. T knew she had a lot of editing to do. She did it directly in bella copia so she wouldn't have to rewrite it, and that is that.

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