As I went into the supermarket on a Saturday before Christmas, I noticed that there was a Christmas fair at the Catholic school next door. Families were coming out with Christmas trees, Advent wreaths, ornaments, cakes, candles and poinsettias.
I was in a hurry and my heart sank at the long, long line for the cash register. Long lines are typical in French stores at Christmas. It's very troublesome to hire and fire in France, so most places prefer to make do, and don't hire more people for the rush times.
As I was debating what to do, three boys of 11 or 12 almost bumped into me. They politely excused themselves and then said, "Madame, do you know where to find the eggs?"
They were completely covered in flour, so that at first I thought they were wearing white clothes. The flour itself was spattered here and there with eggs. In France, hazing is all about food fights.
"You are going to counter-attack, I see!" I said, and pointed them to the eggs.
"Merci Madame! Oui, c'est la vengeance!"