Archive for the ‘Funnies’ Category
I was chatting recently on Twitter with @EssParent and we got to talking about funny expressions in different languages, which has prompted this blog post. I hope you enjoy these French expressions which make me laugh, the expression is in bold with its literal translation underneath, scroll down to the bottom for the equivalent English expression, can you guess what they are without looking?
- C’est l’hôpital qui se fout de la charité/C’est l’hôpital qui se moque de la charité (more polite).
It’s the hospital that takes the piss out of/laughs at the charity.
- Il pleut comme des vaches qui pissent.
It’s raining like cows that piss.
- J’ai un chat dans la gorge.
I’ve got a cat in my throat.
- Il parle français comme une vache espagnole.
He speaks French like a Spanish cow.
- Elle a du monde au balcon.
She has the world on the balcony.
- Tu ne peux pas avoir le beurre et l’argent du beurre.
You can’t have the butter and the money for the butter.
- Ca se fait les doigts dans le nez.
It is done with fingers in the nose.
- Ca coûte la peau du cul.
It costs the skin of your arse.
- Appeler un chat un chat.
To call a cat a cat.
- J’ai les dents du fond qui baigne.
My back teeth are swimming.
- Quand les poules auront les dents.
When hens have teeth.
- Ca arrivera le 36 du mois.
It’ll happen on the 36th of the month.
- J’ai d’autres chats à fouetter.
I’ve got other cats to whip.
- J’ai des fourmis dans les pieds.
I’ve got ants in my feet.
- Il faut pas vendre la peau de l’ours avant de l’avoir tué.
You mustn’t sell the bear’s skin before killing it.
- Il a la chair de poules.
He’s got chicken skin.
English equivalents below….
- It’s the hospital that takes the piss out of/laughs at the charity.
That’s the pot calling the kettle black.
- It’s raining like cows that piss.
It’s raining cats and dogs.
- I’ve got a cat in my throat.
I’ve got a frog in my throat.
- He speaks French like a Spanish cow.
He speaks pidgin English.
- She has the world on the balcony.
She’s big chested. (Not really an expression in English but the French expression makes me laugh lots so had to include it.)
- You can’t have the butter and the money for the butter.
You can’t have your cake and eat it.
Break a leg! (i.e. theatre).
- It is done with fingers in the nose.
It’s a piece of cake.
- It costs the skin of your arse.
It costs an arm and a leg.
- To call a cat a cat.
To call a spade a spade.
- My back teeth are swimming.
- When hens have teeth.
When pigs fly.
- It’ll happen on the 36th of the month.
When pigs fly.
- I’ve got other cats to whip.
I’ve got other fish to fry.
- I’ve got ants in my feet.
I’ve got pins and needles in my feet.
- You mustn’t sell the bear’s skin before killing it.
Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.
- He’s got chicken skin.
He’s got goose bumps.
It’s been nearly 6 months since Baby C joined us and our family of three for the past 6 years went to being a family of four. L has loved having a baby sister and surprisingly has not shown any signs of jealousy having been an only child for 6 years, however I realise she doesn’t get a lot of one on one time with me these days when C is not around.
This last weekend I knew Hubs had things to do in the house on Saturday which meant we wouldn’t be going out as a family, so I thought it would be good to get out with L for a little while during the day. Nothing prepared me for her response to my suggestion though:
Me: As you and me haven’t had much Mummy and L time for a while, how about we go out tomorrow while C is having her long nap?
L: Yeeeessss!!!! Oh no, wait a minute, I’m not sure we should leave C all on her own.
Hubs and I had a good old chuckle over this, and he looked after C while she napped so L and I could go to the local park and do this:
I’m linking this up with Actually Mummy and Wot so Funee, if you fancy a giggle head on over to see some other funny offerings from bloggers’ offspring.
Here’s another of L’s funnies for you:
Yesterday she shouted out to me that one of our cats was at the back door with a mouse in its mouth (making me very grateful we don’t have a cat flap!). I told her to leave the cat – and the dead mouse – outside, that it was nature and we shouldn’t interrupt the cat’s hunting, i.e. I do not want to go there, so let’s leave the cat to kill/eat the mouse in the garden without disturbing us.
She stayed glued to the window, watching them both, and when the cat released the mouse, she came to find me:
L: “Mummy, I am a vet and I need to go out and save the mouse with some cheese.” All this being said as she donned her pink, Disney princess gloves.
Me: “Unfortunately the mouse is dead and there is nothing you can do to help it now.”
L: “Then I shall just go out and make it less dead.”
Fortunately she finally gave up on the dead mouse, but it did make me chuckle….through my revulsion!
As L has dual nationality we have been explaining to her that she can support two countries in the Olympics: France and the UK. So I asked her who she was going to support and she replied “France and Brixton”.
I’m pretty certain she meant Team GB though.
Have your kids come out with any funnies about the Olympics? Share them here, we can all do with a laugh and kids provide the best laughs I find.
If my blog bio wasn’t enough for you, here is some more information about me….
Franglaise Mummy pretty much sums me up: I lived in the UK for the first 22 years of my life before heading to Nice, France after graduating. I had a 3 month return ticket and aimed to spend the summer working in a bar, going to the beach and partying. In less than a month I’d decided to stay on indefinitely….I finally moved back to the UK 12 years and 18 days after going out there as a very different person at 22.
After deciding to stay on in France I set about looking for a serious job and becoming more “French” and less of an expat. Here is a brief summary of my life on the French Riviera age 22 – 34:
I lived in 1 city, 2 towns and 1 village, from the beaches of Nice to the countryside of St Vallier de Thiey which is over 700 metres above sea level and where we had snow every year.
I worked as a barmaid, I cleaned yachts, I cleaned toilets, I worked as a secretary for a man who I later discovered was involved in the Russian mafia, and who I saw on the news in handcuffs one night (whilst I was working for him!), I taught English in businesses, I worked as a PA again and this time my boss was put on gardening leave while the company investigated him for fraud and for stealing company money, I worked in marketing and PR, I ran my own luxury travel agency with my husband which nearly brought an end to our union! My final job in France was running my own business working for a woman who declared herself to be a witch and to know how to cure cancer, and doing some final English teaching to babies and children. After this panoply of jobs I was quite glad to move back to the UK and get a “normal” job in a marketing agency in London.
I had a 3 year relationship with my first French boyfriend, resulting in a mortgage, 2 French cats, an adorable set of in-laws who I still class as my family today and a broken heart. Despite this I decided to stick around in France and I’m glad I did as I then met my husband on a drunken night in a bar in the old town of Nice in December 2001. What I have got out of this relationship is another mortgage, a French dog, 2 English cats, my soul mate and our incredible and fabulous half English, half French daughters.
To everyone’s shock and amazement, in June 2010, fed up with the lack of job opportunities and never-ending petty bureaucracy in France, hubs and I made the huge decision to move (back) to the UK. In the next month we sold nearly everything we had, handed in notices, packed up a tiny van of a few key belongings, booked a one-way flight, had a few drunken farewell parties and headed to my parents’ house with L and our hopes high. I never thought that at age 34 I’d be moving back into my childhood home along with my husband and 3 year old daughter but that’s what happened as we job-hunted and then house-hunted.
In the last 2 years or so we’ve settled into our UK way of life very well and it’s made me realise that whether we live in the UK or France or anywhere else I will now be leading my life the Franglaise way.
So where am I at now? Living with hubs, L (our 6 year old daughter), C (our baby daughter, born in London in November 2012), Courage (French dog pronounced Koo-rarj), Ruby (French cat), Gavin & Smithy (English cats) in southwest London. I usually work full-time while L goes to school but I’m currently on maternity leave, looking after L and C.
This blog is about my personal experiences of the differences in pregnancy, birth and raising babies and children the French and the English way. I am not condoning nor condemning either way, merely stating how it is/was for me, which doesn’t necessarily mean that is how it is for everyone in the UK or France.
With that disclaimer I’ll sign off and say thanks for reading!