Reported conversations No. 20 : Salt on the salad

At 8am it was already 29°C in Carmine Superiore. Work started early - it's going to be a scorcher!

A little voice from the back of the Panda...

B. [aged not-quite 4 and still mixing her languages] : I can see the See, I can see the See.

Mama [aged quite a lot more than 10 x 4] : Lake, darling. In English we say lake. In German it's See, in English it's lake. [Labouring the point as she pulls out onto the lake road and labours up the gears] Mama says lake.

AJ [aged going-on 6] : It's different you see. The lake is fresh water and the sea is salad water.

[Mama breaks 50 and gets into fourth, one side of her brain calculating the tight lakeside curves that Jeremy Clarkson found so daunting and the other starting to boggle at the conversation]

B : Why is there salad?

[Mama hits 60 and slices across the median line, startling an east-European trucker out of his coma, as both sides of her brain wait for the answer]

AJ : No, silly, there isn't salad in the water, it just tastes of salad...

Mama [shifts into an ill-advised fifth and tips the kids out of their seats on a slightly too-fast downhill left-hander as Cannobio comes into sight] : AJ, who told you seawater tastes of salad?


AJ : My maestra. She said lake water is sweet, and seawater is insalata.

[Mama's brain, hands and feet lose coordination as she freewheels into Cannobio, doing 30 in fifth, with the windscreen wipers on max and all four indicators flashing. She's doubled over the wheel with laughter...and the tiny part of her brain not busy cracking up is busy hoping there are no cute Carabinieri waiting in ambush. Finally, the world's-most-battered Panda pulls into the supermarket car park with all outward signs of sanity, but inside, Mama is red in the face and weeping.]

Mama [finally capable of drawing breath] : Sweetie, I think your maestra said seawater is salata, not in-salata...!