Restaurant Debauchery in France

I was in France near Carcassonne, in a village with one bar/cafe, but they do not do meals. The next one along (10 KM) about 6 miles, has a pizzeria. I am a regular there.

Do not even think New York style pizza, this is France.

At any rate it is a family run joint with the two proprietors, a TV on the wall doing French cartoons, watched by the two girls of the owners.

The 8 yr old is egging the 4 yr old on to poke one of the only 2 other customers in the back (a village local chatting up his girlfriend.)

No go. Little miss giggles, but can't quite get up to doing it.

Customers leave.

Little miss notices me watching and hides behind her big sister, peeking around at me.

I begin.

I stare at the little one through my fists as binoculars. She hides again.

I look away. She looks again. Now I stack the fists and it's a telescope.

She giggles and ducks.

Mom comes over with the menu and I order. Kid hovers.

We get right back to the peeking and hiding game. I am having a great time and so is she.

The meal arrives, and so do more customers. (A family with 3 children in the 4 to 8 range.)

Kid gets a stack of torn up menus to play with and does so quietly, companionably and happily on the empty table next to mine as I eat.

Having dined, I now turn to P'tite Damoiselle. She smiles and shows me her stack of green half menus. Gives me one.

Temptation takes over. I show her how to fold it into a paper airplane. Wide and clumsy, it flies poorly.

She gives me another half menu. This time I make a long narrow one with good range and stable flight characteristics.

She folds some of her own and I help. Soon we have a whole table load of ammunition and an unsuspecting 8 yr old girl target (shit disturber in her own right) across the room watching TV, and us; as we bend, fold, spindle and mutilate while giggling among ourselves.

Then with no warning whatsoever, we attack. I show Kid how to launch the deadly dart using two index fingers. Bulls Eye.

Sis flings it back.

Giggles.

We launch several retaliatory flights. The air soon filled with missiles.

The kids from the family that makes up the other patrons have been watching the Arms Race with envy, and are now firing off-course missiles that land near them back in both directions.

I got up, paid up, left a couple of Euros for the 'cleanup' and listened to the giggles as I walked out the door.

True story.