Louis C.K. — Paroles et traduction des paroles de la chanson My 3-Year-Old Is A 3-Year-Old
La page contient les paroles et la traduction française de la chanson « My 3-Year-Old Is A 3-Year-Old » de Louis C.K..
Paroles
The three-year-old Is a different story. The three-year-old, Here’s her deal. She’s a three-year-old.
That’s really it. She’s three years old. The other day I got in a fight with her. Whose fault is that?
I’m 41, And she’s 3 It’s always your fault With a three-year-old. Always. Because they are just
what they are. They can’t help it. Just tape the windows. It’s a fucking hurricane. Just wait.
Anytime you’re like this with a three-year-old- “Don’t you under-” You’re an idiot. That’s you
being an idiot. “Don’t you understand?” “No, I don’t, dad. I haven’t developed enough. You just
have to wait.” But it was partly her fault, ‘Cause she wore me down. Let me tell you What
happened. It was this horrible, Horrible day. It started the night before, ‘Cause she woke me up
all night. Just woke me up Every fucking- Just ten minutes. Just woke me up- Just- “Dad. ” With
nothing. That’s the worst part. “Daddy!” “Wha-what? What is it?” “Um… ” “Oh, fuck you. You got
nothing. You bullshitter, you. ” So now it’s the next morning, I’m making breakfast, And I’m gone.
I’m insane. I drank too much coffee to overcompensate, And I’m like- I keep having these
moments where it’s like- and there’s nothing there. Just nothing. “Uh, okay. Jesus. ” I’m making
french toast. She’s over there sitting in her little chair, just fucking anger. Just pure-she’s A little
ball of anger. She’s like, “I want french toast!” I’m like, “yeah, that’s what I’m making, honey. I’m
making french toast. ” I bring it over. “Here.” “Give me syrup!” “Yes. of course. I’ll give you syrup. I always do. I love you very much.” “Cut it for me!” “I’m happy to cut it for you. “You’re not
asking nicely, But it’s okay. “I’ll cut it for you, Baby. I love you very much.” Then she’s looking at
her plate, and she’s literally going- ‘Cause she needs to be- Want something. You know, she
didn’t- There’s nothing logical For her to want, So her brain has to go somewhere crazy. So she’s
looking at her plate. She goes, “I don’t know Which piece to eat!” And I’m still not engaging. I’m
like, “Oh, I know, honey. “That’s hard. That’s really hard. “I’ll just make a list of pros and cons for
every piece, And I’ll help you with it later. ” And I look at her, And she’s walking towards me now
With the plate just vertical, With syrup fucking Going on the floor. She’s like, “Help me! You’re
not helping!” And I’m standing there, Like, looking at her, And I love her, And I’m proud of her in
a way, ‘Cause I know she’ll never Want for anything. She’ll beat the shit Out of people. She’s…
She’ll kill people for meat After the apocalypse. She’ll be one of those. And then later I’m trying
To get them dressed for school, And now the clock’s ticking, And I’m like, “uh… ” And I’m trying
to put A sweater on her, And it’s impossible. The sweater has buttons That just don’t exist. And
I’m fucking- My fat fingers, And they’re full of sweat. And I have just tears Going down my
cheeks. Crazy tears. I’m not crying. I’m, like, Smiling with tears. Copious- “I can’t- I can’t put on
the sweater. “I can’t put on the sweater. I can’t. I really can’t do it. ” And she’s going like this. So I
give her a fig newton Just to immobilize her, Just to stop it. ‘Cause she loves fig newtons. I go,
“here, honey. Have a fig newton. ” She goes, “they’re not Called fig newtons. They’re called pig
newtons. ” And I go, “No, they’re not. They’re called fig newtons. ” And right away in my head
I’m like, “what are you doing? “Why? What is to be gained? What do you care?” Just-“yeah, pig
newtons. Fine. Go ahead. “Good luck to you. Go through life. “See what kind of job You can hold
down “With shit like that Clanging around in your head. I don’t care. I’ll be dead.” But for some
reason I engaged. “No, honey, They’re called fig newtons.” She goes, “No. You don’t know. You
don’t know. They’re called pig newtons.” And I just-I feel this rage building inside. Just… Because
it’s not That she’s wrong. She’s three. She’s entitled to be wrong. But it’s the fucking arrogance of
this kid. No humility. No decent sense of self-doubt. She’s not going like, “dad, I think those are
pig newtons. Are you sure That you have it right?” She’s not saying that. She’s not going, like,
“Dad, I’m pretty sure Those are pig newtons,” Which would be a little Cunty, but acceptable. I
could deal with that. She’s giving me nothing. “No, you don’t know. Those are pig-” I’m like,
“Really? I don’t know? “I don’t know? “Dude, I’m not even using My memory right now, okay?
“I’m reading the fucking box “That the shit came out of! “It says it! Where are you getting your
information?” “How do you fuck with me on this? “You’re 3 and I’m 41! “What are the odds that
you’re right and I’m wrong? “What are the sheer odds of that? “And take a bite of the cookie.
“Does it taste like a pork cookie, motherfucker? “I don’t think so. Why would they call it a pig
newton?” “What’s- Oh, it tastes like figs. Fucking interesting, That, isn’t it?” I didn’t say a word of
that. Obviously.
But anyway, later… Got the kids dressed. It’s winter. We all have the layers on, And it’s time to go
to school. And I’ve got ten minutes To get to a school That’s ten minutes away, Which is a
horrible feeling. I put my hand On the door to leave, And all of a sudden I go, “I got to take a shit.
“Take the coats off, kids. “We’re gonna be late. “You’re gonna be 40 minutes late. I don’t give a
shit.” I am not walking to school like this. I can’t use the bathroom at the school, ‘Cause child molesters ruined that for everybody. Just-we’re- I’m shitting here. So I’m sitting on the toilet. I’m
shitting. With the door open, By the way. That’s my life. Two kids by myself. I can’t shit with the
door closed. Unless I gather them into the bathroom To watch daddy take a dump. Which I’ve
done With the little one. “Honey, uh, I got to poop And you’re too crazy. Just come with me. You
got to come with me. ” So I’m sitting there, And I’m shitting, And I’m trying to see them In the
other room. “Honey, Stay between the tables. I can’t see you,” I said. The little one Walks into
view naked. It’s all gone. All gone. Walks up, looks at me. And then she- I don’t know why, But
she shows me her ass. It’s something She always does when she’s- She just goes- “Look at it!
Daddy, You’re not looking!” So I’m sitting there shitting, Looking at her ass. And I saw something
That I’d never seen before. And I’m gonna describe it to you The way that I saw it, Because it
just-I didn’t know What I was looking at. I’m looking at her little, White ass. She’s white. Little,
perfect, Little, white ass. And right in the center of it, This little black dot Just-boop! Appeared
like magic. That’s what it Looked like to me, Because I’ve never Seen shit Actually coming out of
an ass before. I never saw that. I never saw the shit- Like, the crowning, The shit coming out. And
if you ever do see that, It’s fucking bananas, man. It’s weird. And upsetting. I yelled. I went,
“aah!” And a second later, just- She just drops This massive- I felt the impact tremor Under my
feet. This huge pile of shit. Just a pile. Like several people’s Pile of shit. Like a port-a-potty on The
last day of the festival. Just a huge, Huge pile of shit. How? She’s three. This kid shits like a bear. I
don’t understand it. Seriously. If you were in the woods And you saw a shit like that, You’d be
like, “let’s get The fuck out of here! Run!” Huge pile of shit. As big as her whole body. Easily. I
thought she would just crumple Like a balloon on top of it. “Huh. Weird. ” She’s standing there
just Straddling this huge shit, Presenting it, like… She slips, falls Right into her own shit. Yes, fell- I
was there. Fell right in the middle of her own heap of shit. Her head hit the floor. You know that
sound of your Kid’s head hitting the floor? “Ooh. Oh, God. “Uh, she’s done. “That’s it for her.
She’s finished. “She’s gonna be running To the mailbox once a day. That’s about it for her. ” Now
she’s laying In her shit, Screaming and crying And making an angel. I run over. I’m still shitting,
Holding a Shit-covered child. We’re the shit family. That’s what we are. The seven-year-old’s
Standing there, “I got to get The fuck out of here. This is horrible. “ That’s my life right now, man.
That’s-like, where in there do I fit, like, getting pussy? Like, there’s no place for that. I can’t even
think about it.
Traduction des paroles
son assiette, et elle va littéralement - parce qu'elle a besoin d'être-vouloir quelque chose. Vous savez, elle
n'a pas - il n'y a rien de logique pour elle de vouloir, donc son cerveau doit aller dans un endroit fou. Donc elle est
en regardant son assiette. Elle dit: "Je ne sais pas quel morceau manger!"Et je ne suis toujours pas engageant. Je suis
genre, " Oh, je sais, chérie. “C'est dur. C'est vraiment difficile. “Je vais faire une liste des avantages et des inconvénients pour
chaque pièce, et je t'aiderai plus tard. "Et je la regarde, et elle marche vers moi maintenant
Avec l'assiette juste verticale, avec du sirop qui va par terre. Elle est comme, “Aidez-moi! Vous êtes
ne pas aider!"Et je suis là, comme, la regardant, et je l'aime, et je suis fier d'elle dans
un moyen, parce que je sais qu'elle ne voudra jamais de quoi que ce soit. Elle va battre la merde Hors de personnes. Elle est…
Elle tuera des gens pour de la viande après l'apocalypse. Elle va être l'un de ceux-ci. Et puis plus tard, je suis en train
Pour les habiller pour l'école, et maintenant l'horloge tourne, et je suis comme, "euh..." et j'essaie
mettre un pull sur elle, et c'est impossible. Le pull a des boutons qui n'existent tout simplement pas. Et
Je baise mes gros doigts, et ils sont pleins de sueur. Et j'ai juste des larmes qui descendent mon
les joues. Fou de larmes. Je ne suis pas en train de pleurer. Je suis, comme, tout Sourire avec des larmes. Copieux- “je ne peux pas - je ne peux pas mettre sur
pull. “Je ne peux pas mettre sur le chandail. Je ne peux pas. Je ne peux vraiment pas le faire. ” Et elle va comme ceci. J'Ai Donc
donnez-lui une figue newton juste pour l'immobiliser, juste pour l'arrêter. "Parce qu'elle aime fig newtons. Je vais,
“ici, le miel. Prenez une figue newton. "Elle va," ils ne S'appellent pas fig newtons. Ils s'appellent cochon
Newton. "Et je vais," non, ils ne sont pas. Ils sont appelés Newtons fig. ” Et tout de suite dans ma tête
Je suis genre “ " qu'est-ce que tu fais? "Pourquoi? Ce sera gagné? Que pensez-vous de soins?” Juste“ouais, cochon
Newton. Fin. Vas-y. “Bonne chance à vous. Aller à travers la vie. "Voyez quel genre de travail vous pouvez tenir
en bas " avec des trucs comme ça qui retentissent dans ta tête. Je n'ai pas de soins. Je vais être morte.” Mais pour certains
pourquoi je me suis engagé. "Non, chérie, on les appelle fig newtons.“Elle va, " Non. Vous ne connaissez pas. Vous
ne sais pas. On les appelle des newtons de porc."Et je sens juste que cette rage se développe à l'intérieur. Juste ... Parce Que
ce n'est pas Qu'elle est mauvaise. Elle est trois. Elle est en droit de se tromper. Mais c'est de la putain de l'arrogance de
ce gamin. Aucune humilité. Aucun sentiment décent de doute de soi. Elle ne va pas comme, “papa, je pense que ceux qui sont
cochon de newton. Êtes-vous sûr Que vous l'avez droit?” Elle ne dit pas que. Elle ne va pas, comme,
"Papa, je suis sûr que ce sont des newtons de porc," ce qui serait un peu con, mais acceptable. Je
pourrait régler le problème. Elle ne me donne rien. “Non, vous ne connaissez pas. Ce sont des porcs - " je suis comme,
"Vraiment? Je ne sais pas? "Je ne sais pas? "Mec, je n'utilise même pas ma mémoire en ce moment, OK?
"Je lis la putain de boîte" dont la merde est sortie! “Il dit! Où en êtes-vous de votre
de l'information?""Comment tu te fous de moi là-dessus? "Tu as 3 ans et j'ai 41 ans! “Quelles sont les chances de
vous avez raison et j'ai tort? “Quels sont les pure chances de qui? “Et de prendre une bouchée de biscuit.
"Est-ce que ça a le goût d'un biscuit de porc, enculé? “Je ne pense pas. Pourquoi appelleraient ils ça un cochon
newton?"Qu'est-ce-Oh, il a le goût de figues. Putain intéressant, Que, n'est-ce pas?” Je n'ai pas dit un mot de
que. Pour sûr.
Mais de toute façon, plus tard... a habillé les enfants. C'est l'hiver. Nous avons tous les couches, et il est temps d'y aller
à l'école. Et j'ai dix minutes pour aller à une école qui est à dix minutes, ce qui est un
horrible sentiment. J'ai mis ma main sur la porte pour partir, et tout d'un coup je me suis dit: "je dois chier.