This blog was born in french during autumn 2003 and is now progressively being translated in your language.
New articles will therefore appear on a regular basis.
... my apologies to the people who hadn't understood this yet, all articles on this website are created and written by myself (his dad).
Lou is currently unable to do it,, just like he is to this day unable to grasp the concept of a "computer", "internet", or to focus for a long period of time on a conversation. Only time will tell us if we manage to integrate him completely in the world in which he lives.
Therefore all stories, despite relating actual facts, are obviously biased by my interpretation of his behavior. But having known him for over five years, I don't think I'm getting it wrong.
Thank you to the "Roi Baudoin" foundation ( "Parcours hors pistes" ). The new design, hosting and translations were partially made possible by their financial support.
Many thanks to Marco Pappalardo et Laetitia Bouet for the translation.
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saturday 22 january 2005
44. My impersonator talents (again and again...)
I've got a good one for you : from time to time, my parents take me to the countryside on week-ends, in a very rustic house (it used to be a farm). I've got my own room there, right next to theirs. One night, when I had decided to party on my own in my bed, my mommy and daddy were awaken by the noise I was making. I should mention there is only a thin wooden partition separating our rooms. They were under the impression I was talking to ... a ghost ! They could distinctively hear two very different voices : mine ... and a very low-pitched voice which they immediately recognized : Grandpa ! Yes, I was imitating perfectly the voice of my grandpa, who I love. It sounded something like this : Me : "How are you Granpa ?" Him : "I'm fine kid... how about you?" Me : "Very well, and Colargol hasn't been to school". Him : "Really ?" Me : "And do you like the armchair ?" Him : "Yes kid, I like the armchair. And do you want to go out in the yard ?" Me : "Yes, because grandma, she's gone." Etc... I can't tell you how much mommy and daddy laughed... Same tone, same intonation, same words (only grandpa calls me "kid").
It's just like the day when I would frantically repeat over and over the same uncomprehensible sentence : "alo, alo, alo, djacbai". Until the day daddy guessed the meaning of my onomatopoeias. I was imitating grandpa when he picks up the phone : "allo, Jacques Bailly...". I guess my parents can be a little hard-headed !