Lili, eight years old, is in love... and most readers who are eight or over will know how troublesome that
is. She thinks Hugo's desperately cute, but she doesn't dare tell him straight out - rejection is so painful! And there's that other little bitch who's brazenly making a play for him. Quelle drageuse
, she disgustedly tells Clara.
But, luckily, technology in this area has improved since I was at primary school. Back in the 60s, we had to compose our own billets-doux
, which of course was far too complicated and stressful for most people even to consider it. Now, at least if we're to believe this book, there are handy forms that everyone seems to be able to get hold of without difficulty. You just tick the boxes ("I like tall/petite blondes/brunettes/redheads who are shy/outgoing/good at sports", etc), and ask your trusty BF to deliver it ver de terre
("earthworm-post", i.e. passed from hand to hand during class, if I understand this phrase correctly).
Of course, there can be a few complications, for example when your hated rival intercepts the completed form and reads it aloud to all your so-called friends. A few tears are duly shed. But you'll be glad to hear that true love triumphs in the end.
It's cute, informative and not overly sentimental. Not only that, in the back you'll even find a checklist that will let you quickly determine if you're amoureuse
yourself. Handy or what?