Monday, April 6, 2015

Poisson d'Avril

The boys had fun being introduced to the French version of April Fools' Day last week. Here it's known as poisson d'avril (april fish), and the chief goal is for children to sneakily attach paper fish to adults' backs. Both boys were gleeful in reporting that their teachers had several paper fish on their backs all morning at school! Other tomfoolery sometimes happens too. When William was picked up at noon (Wednesdays are always half days), all the children and teachers in his class had the April pox.

Of course the boys had to make fish to hang on Daddy's back while he was working. Under the guise of giving him a hug, both boys managed to tag him successfully. It helped that Jesse had never heard of poisson d'avril so was entirely unsuspecting!

The origin of the tradition isn't clear—there seem to be a few popular stories—but it's been around for a good 500 years. Back then, real fish were used. Thank goodness that's no longer the case!

Oddly enough, in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, the poisson d'avril temporarily became a (bizarre) symbol of love and affection instead of a tag for a fool. Thus for a few decades the rage was to send romantic, atmospheric fish-themed postcards to loved ones on April 1st. And no, I'm not "april fooling"! I found these antique examples for sale on French eBay for a euro or two right now. Gotta love a flower and dead fish bouquet, eh? And there's nothing creepy about a little girl cuddling a beribboned fish, right? I just can't imagine why that tradition phased back out...

William came home with this holiday hybrid on Friday: a poisson d'avril on the front and a little glass jar full of chocolate Easter eggs attached at the back. He's very proud of it. And...I was even prouder when, unprompted, he emptied out the chocolates and divided half for his brother!

1 comment:

Unknown said...

I certainly do miss you guys! It looks as though you've had yet another wonderful day in France. I hope that you will not be borded with Lancaster when you come home. Love you all, Mama Cas