How I met my French Husband: The Speedo

swimming hole

 

I grew up in a small rural community called Willows in California. I am the oldest of five children and the only girl. My parents never imagined that I would leave Willows, let alone move to another country, equally, they never imagined that I would marry a French Man.

When French Husband meet my parents it was love at first sight, though my Father was skeptical. My Father often marvelled out loud to me, "Out of all the men in Willows my daughter falls for a Frenchman." My Father studied Yann's every move, to the point of assuming that French Husband's Speedo was a motive for seduction and not simply a swimsuit. 

"Real men do not wear Speedos," my Father shook his head with a grunt.

 

 

swimming hole

 

The first time my Father saw French Husband in a Speedo he nearly split in two. He gave me a concerning look, I looked back, shrugged as if to say, "What is the matter?" Under his breath he mumbled, "Tell him to take it off," then for good measure, "Jesus Christ!" and not in the praying sense.

French Husband saw the look my Father gave, but could not understand the words he had quickly uttered. "Repeat me what he say you."

Being a naughty tease, between the two men I loved, I pronounced each word slowly, "My.. Father…said…to…take…it (pointing to his Speedo)…off."

"Off? Nue? Vraiment?" Poor French Husband was confused.

I shrugged.

My Father asked, "Corey what the hell is he saying?"

"Yann said…" I repeated his broken English word for word.

That was how it was in the beginning. I repeated everything everyone would say slowly. Even though for the most part everything said was in English. Though the tempo and accent often got it the way.

 

 

swimming hole

 

"I told him what you said."

"Told him what?"

"What you said: "To take it off".

My Father rolled his eyes, "Corey! God forbid!"

 

Then we laughed.

 

French Husband studied our faces, our quickly said words, then our laughter. He was more confused. I told him, "Men do not wear Speedos in Willows." French Husband grinned, "George, you swim nude?"

"Oh Jesus Christ Yann!"My Father and French Husband got along after that.

French Husband ditched the Speedo for swim-trunks that he called his,

"Sac a Pommes de Terre", potato sack.

 

Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?

 



Comments

13 responses to “How I met my French Husband: The Speedo”

  1. What a funny story!

  2. Too funny! Your poor dear Father. What a hooligan you were/are.

  3. Oh, thank you for the good laugh!!
    I know all about French (and the Swiss) and Speedos — something vague about hygiene. But hey, my dad being European, he too wore a Speedo (I think he still has it — bright red it was!), so he would have found nothing wrong with it.
    Actually, I find the swimwear sported by North American men to be rather odd… There I was, watching my 6 year old’s swim class. Viggo was wearing trim squarish boy trunks, but all the other boys, skinny kids still struggling to learn their kicks, had baggy trunks down to their calves. Seems very impractical to me…

  4. LauraInSeattle

    This is the best story so far!! I can only imagine…

  5. Seems to me that everyone in your family has a rakish sense of humor. I love it!

  6. Corey, what a hoot! The word ‘Speedo’ in the title and we just had to click through didn’t we?! I think you’re on to something here!
    Skinny dipping – yep, while at university but on hols working in Cornwall staying with a flatmate who was from Falmouth. We rowed out into the creek to plunge in, only to find the tide went out pretty swiftly. Not a danger thankfully but to get back to shore, we had to wade over very nasty, prickly and sharp exposed mussel bed carrying the rowing boat! Not one to repeat. Plus, a Royal Navy Frigate blasted it horn at us to ‘get out of the way’ when we first rowed out in the black night! A bit of an adventure.

  7. Leslie in Oregon

    Yes, I have gone skinny dipping, but other than those times, I am a lifelong Speedo swimmer. I grew up as a competitive swimmer, and Speedos (or other suits of the same style and material) were the best racing suits. The style and material minimized water resistance and thereby maximized speed. In the decades since then, I have continued to wear Speedos because they feel so great in the water…they let me feel like I’m part of the water. The swimsuit styles American men now tend to wear make no sense at all for swimming.

  8. I sure have gone skinny dipping – WOO HOO!
    In Australia, we call men’s speedos – Budgie Smugglers.
    And we were all horrified when our Prime Minister started strutting his stuff in his Budgie Smugglers.

  9. When did American men become so prudish? Nobody wore those baggy shorts when I was growing up in Chicago. Which by the way, in Chicago public schools, boys swimming classes were done in the nude until sometime in the 1970’s.

  10. One and only time I went skinny dipping was on the island of Rhodes, in Rhodes town. A group of friends decided to get up early and watch the sun rise after watching the amazing sunrise we were inspired to do somthing silly and decided to go skinny dipping. All went well until we were emerging out of the water and infront of us was the local pensioners daily swimming group, at least 30 of them! Can you imagine the looks we got walking out of the water!!! It was fun though.

  11. What a great story, I just love this.
    I love the humor shared in your family.

  12. MY HUSBAND STILLS WEAR A SPEEDO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    OH< COREY.............I love all the things WE have in common! XX

  13. I love the photos that you’ve chosen for this wonderful storey!

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