Napoleon or Not

I awoke with that feeling that sometimes comes early in the morning that you need urgent care, or you need to get to Urgent Care in about 3 seconds. I thought I'd swallowed a migration of butterflies but was relieved to discover that it was only Ben's tail. You're familiar with Ben, of course, the Ragga-muffin cat, properly referred to as Beignet. 

As soon as I could breathe again, I bounded out of bed, and seeing a cloud of steam and a small river coming from the salle de bains, I knew Ms Wonder must be within. I desired her thoughts on a subject of interest and so I waded into the stream. A raft of ducks appeared out of the mist and swam out the door and into the bedroom.

Beignet Lafayette

"Poopsie?" I said, directing my voice toward the sound of rushing water.

The torrent of water stopped abruptly and presently a Venus-like form appeared. Two emerald-green eyes gave me a look that made me think that my pajama top and bottom were mismatched but no, a quick glance in the mirror told me that the corn-flower blue pants and the heliotrope t-shirt were parfait.

"What?" I said.

"Why are you wearing Abbie on your shoulder?" she said and I'm blowed if she didn't describe the situation perfectly. I recognized the question, however, as diversionary, and I did not intend to be distracted. I pressed on.

Abbie (Abracadabra) Hoffman

"Oh, it seemed like a good idea at the time," I said lifting the little ninja from my shoulder and placing him on the floor. "If you have a moment, I have something to run up your flag pole."

"Run it," she said in that way she has of moving the story forward.

"Right," I said. "Here it is then, without preamble, having considered this and that, I believe I should stop talking about Napoleon."

Her right hand, which had been meditatively soaping a left arm, stopped abruptly as though the spring had unwound. She made a moue, if it is a moue, where she pushed the lips out and then pulled them back in again.

"I don't get it," she said.

"Simply," I said. "I keep mentioning Napoleon in my blog posts and I think it may be having a disruptive effect on the education of French school children."

"Hold on," she said, "let me get this straight. You've been making negative comments about Napoleon?"

"Of course not," I said. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Some people think of him as a little tyrant," she said.

"Not at all," I said. "An emperor for the little people in my opinion."

 "So you simply reference him in blog posts, perhaps quoting him or mentioning some of his achievements?"

"Well," I said, "I may have mentioned his retreat from the Russian front in a contingency sleigh or perhaps the burning of the French fleet in the port of Cairo but only in the most tasteful and respectful way, you can be sure."

"So what's the problem?" she said.

"Well, it's like this," I said. "I've noticed that whenever I mention Napoleon, that blog post gets a lot of hits in France. I've tried to reconcile this phenomenon and all I've come up with is that French kids are researching their country's history in school and they Google themselves to my blog where I'm sure they're entertained for hours but, unfortunately for them, they gain no useful information for their reports."

"Oh," she said, applying loofah to the left elbow, "I see what you mean."

"I thought you would," I said.

"I think you'd best leave off with Napoleon," she said.

"But only in my blog posts," I said. "I shall continue to follow his example in my plans for world domination."

"Exactly," she said.

"Thank you, Poopsie," I said. I left her soaking in the tub and I went looking for those ducks.

Sagi M'Tesi