SCENE
In the dusk a brisk breeze envelops a short man with ruddy cheeks and regulation Polish haircut as he strides down Dolina Słuczewiecka, his pace as precise as the Grenadier Guards on parade. He removes his cap to allow his moist brow to cool as he endeavours to complete the 6km walk in under 45 minutes. In the near distance an even shorter typical Babcia stands alone waiting at a bus stop.
DIALOGUE [Translated]
BABCIA: Young man, where are you going without your czapka?
ME: [Not understanding initially] I am very sorry but I am not Polish and I only speak a little po polsku, do you need help?
BABCIA: I said put your hat on! You will get sick! Do it, now!
ME: [Understanding, at last] Ah thank you very much, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so very much.
BABCIA: It is cold tonight, jako jako.
CONCLUSION
You just can't argue with Babcia. That would never happen in England in a million years!
The odd bit is being nagged for not wearing a hat by someone who doesn't wear one because it will spoil their hairstyle.
ReplyDeleteAh yes, the Voice of the Babcia—similar to the Voice of God except that it originates from elbow level rather than a glowering sky. I was once vigorously castigated for holding a banknote in my mouth while I fiddled with change: "Don't put that in your mouth, you don't know where it's been!"
ReplyDeletePan Steeva...have you been talking to my Mrs?!
ReplyDeleteJamie...to be fair, I think the Babcia had a point no? Otherwise we'd all be doing it. I think the Romans used to put spare change in their mouths, or was it the Greeks? But then they didn't have Babcias.