You have to imagine a little Parisian, who, because of a blended family and the different school holiday zones, would spend his holidays in several French regions.
We can think that when he gets home, he won't know what his name is anymore!
If he behaves like a rascal and does the four hundred blows, a Breton grandmother will be able to call him a brat or a kid if she is from Provence, funny if he is in the Center, the West, the South -West and the Loire Valley, gone in the Lyonnais.
On vacation in the Alps, and if he behaves like a spoiled child, spoiled.
In Normandy, he will hear it said secretly about him, if his parents were not married at the time of his conception, that he is a hedge child (an illegitimate child), which will certainly leave him speechless.
If this child is the one we weren't expecting, the youngest, born long after his brothers and sisters, he will be called le culot in Lorraine, a term whose origin, if the child discovered one day, would be worth long years on the couch of a psychoanalyst
If he is cute (coconut in Brittany), we will give him, like Marcel Pagnol in
Fanny,
the qualifier of pitchoun or pitchounet:
“The little Miette has had terrible whooping cough for ten days.
We even fear for his life!”
Caesar:
“Poor pitchounet!”
If this child is the one we weren't expecting, the youngest, born long after his brothers and sisters, he will be called the tardillon in Normandy, the repichon in Anjou, and the... chunk in Lorraine, a term whose if the child one day discovered the origin, it would be worth many years to him on the couch of a psychoanalyst.
Excerpt from
The most beautiful expressions of our regions
.
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