Moment of Truth

A/N: When Emily is speaking with her family and her nanny, she's usually speaking French. I don't know French to type what they're saying in that language, but I tried to say when she was speaking French and when she was speaking English. If I don't say and she's talking with her family, assume they're all speaking French. Other than that, enjoy the piece.

Emily walked into her kitchen first thing in the morning. She knew today was the day when she'd really try French food, and not just French bread or something childish like that. Now that she was growing older, she wanted to try more, and her parents were willing to support her cravings for their favorite international cuisine.

"What's for breakfast?" Emily asked in French.

"French toast," her mother winked, passing Emily a plate of toast and eggs. "We will have our French dinner tonight, my dear," she said in French, grabbing her own plate and walking with Emily to their breakfast table. Emily's father was still away on business, she realized, and her nanny was upstairs tidying up her bed. She felt alone and disappointed, but the eggs and toast were still good, even if they weren't French.

"Time for school!" her nanny called from the door, her French accent just as flawless as it always was. Emily quickly obeyed her, finishing her eggs before running to her room to get dressed. When she was done, she neatly ate the toast while her nanny put her backpack on her back.

"Take her to the restaurant at four-thirty," Emily's mother instructed the nanny, her French sounding weak compared to their French-native nanny.

"Yes, yes, Madam," the nanny replied in French, leading Emily outside and to the car.

Once at school, Emily couldn't help but to brag to her friends about her upcoming French dinner. As DW, James, Cheikh, and Emily played a pattern game with blocks, she told them the great news.

"What will you be eating?" James asked.

"I don't know," Emily replied, shrugging slightly and sitting back in her chair to think for a moment. "I've had some small things, but they didn't think I'd like the more adult dishes. I know there's this one dish called 'car is go' that my mom didn't think I'd like at all, but I might have that tonight."

"'Car is go'?" DW asked with a perplexed voice. "My dad told me about this snails dish called escargot, but I don't remember if it was French or not. It just has a funny name."

"That is a funny name," James giggled.

"I don't know if that's right or not," Emily shrugged, taking her turn in the pattern game. "I guess I'll find out tonight, but I don't think I want to eat snails. What if they do something strange to my insides?"

"You might turn into an alien!" Cheikh exclaimed, his voice carrying to the next station where the Tibble twins sat alert. When they heard what he said, they turned to see who Cheikh was talking about. DW looked too plain-faced, and they knew Cheikh wouldn't say that about James; Cheikh and James were good friends. So they had to be talking about Emily.

"Emily's an alien! Emily's an alien!" they cried in unison, causing Emily to look at them with an angry expression, her cheeks red from either anger, embarrassment, or both.

"Stop it! I won't be turned into an alien! I won't!" she hissed, getting back to her game. The Tibbles kept going until the teacher noticed and stopped them, but Emily never said another word. Her thoughts were on the snails dish. She lied to DW; she knew it was really escargot, but she didn't want to know that escargot was snails.

Emily was quiet and kept to herself for the rest of the day. When her nanny arrived to take her home before dinner, Emily didn't say a word, even when she tried to tell a funny story. Emily was really bothered still, and her nanny sat beside her on a small futon to talk to her about what was bothering her.

"I'm worried about dinner tonight," Emily admitted, her eyes floating towards the open window and the world outside. "I don't want to try snails because they might hurt me."

"You have risks like that with every food, not just escargot," her nanny said, careful to follow up with an explanation. "Food must be stored and prepared properly to keep us safe from illness. If a food is served raw, the chefs only use special ingredients that won't make us sick. If your chef takes special care, which Chef Pierre will, then you won't get sick."

"The snails won't turn me into an alien?" Emily asked, causing her nanny laugh.

"Sorry, darling, but I find your theory about snails entertaining. Nothing available on earth will turn you into an alien if you eat it. Just take my word for it," she laughed. Emily nodded, feeling better. She asked to play fashion show to help pick out her outfit for the night, and her nanny obliged, disappearing with her into her expansive closet.

The restaurant was crowded when they arrived, but there was already a table waiting for them. Emily sat between her mother and father; Emily's nanny was waiting for them in the parking lot to drive them home.

"Should I help you with the menu, dear?" her mother asked in French. Emily nodded. She spoke French better than she could read, which made sense because she couldn't read English very well yet either. "Here's some traditional dishes, darling. What about this?"

Emily looked the word over. She sounded it out the way she was taught to do: Es-car-got. No, that couldn't be right. Escargot sounded like "go," not "got".

"Do you need some help?" her mother asked. Emily nodded. "Escargot, snails," her mother replied in French and English. She said "go" not "got", but Emily was focused on the dish itself. "You look intrigued. Look at her, dear," she said to her husband, patting his arm to get his attention.

"Escargot it is," he nodded. "I'll have the same," he said when the waiter arrived, and though Emily's mother wanted to get the dish as well, she chose something different so Emily could taste it.

A few minutes later, their food arrived. Emily thought it looked very strange, but it smelled really good. She poked at a piece of snail with her fork, or what she assumed was a snail. The hard shells were gone, leaving behind just the meal. Emily felt less afraid with the shell gone, so she took a bite.

It was the moment of truth as she moved the snail around in her mouth, chewing it only after thoroughly moving it around with her tongue. Her parents watched as her face went from blank and unreadable to-

"This is really good!" Emily exclaimed in English. "This is delicious!"

"Shh, shh, yes," her mother laughed, waving gently to a neighboring table who overhead her daughter's exclaims. Emily finished chewing and apologized to the table in French before turning back to her mother.

"I'm going to eat all of this and all of Dad's meal too," Emily said in French. In reality, she could only eat about half of her adult-sized portion, which was far more than she thought she'd eat the day before.

Emily left the restaurant happy to have found a new food that she liked. She hoped to go back often, at least once she convinced the Tibbles that snails wouldn't turn you into aliens. She knew what she could bring in for show and tell, and she couldn't wait to share her culture with her friends.

Theme 028: Hard to…

(Hard to try something new)

To complete the themes yourself, I have the list posted on my profile. The list is for any type of fan fiction (one-shot, drabble, etc.) and any fandom. Challenge yourself in other ways to make it more fun, and enjoy!