Comment dit-on "awkward" en francais?

Why did they have to bring me into the conversation? I was just minding my own business.

The woman who runs this household, Bibi, is Catholic. Very Catholic. Her 14-year-old daughter, Alexandra, a.k.a. "Toots," is a rebellious 14-year-old -- like every girl her age, from Morges to Timbuctu. That is all the background you need.

At dinner tonight, Bibi started to talk about some new issue involving kids Toots' age, something having to do with pornographic pictures on their computers, or on their phones, or something electronic -- I really can't remember. Of course, whenever you're at the dinner table and stuff like that comes up -- unless you're around all people your own age -- you are just praying that the issue is dropped, and dropped immediately, before you are asked to pitch in your two cents.

"You don't have any pictures like that, do you Toots?"

She muttered something back in French, obviously annoyed to the nth degree that her mom could be so out of the loop with today's teens. All I caught was tout le monde, and then something else to indicate that it's totally, like, not a big deal, or whatever.

Bibi disagreed.

Remember the Catholicism.

I could already feel it coming. That question was about to be directed at me, with an expected "no" serving as the backup for Bibi's moral point.

As any kid would do, whether guilty or not, Toots vehemently rejected the idea. "No, of course not!" Now it was my turn to reject such a notion. Bibi turned to me. I braced myself so that my uncomfortable state wouldn't give my position away too easily.

"And you, Bayless? Have you ever downloaded sex pictures off the Internet?"

My mind raced like Floyd Landis on synthetic testosterone. Could I say "no" based on semantics? ("'Pictures?? Why no, of course I don't download pictures.' Phew, that was close.") No, those 56k days from around the turn of the millenium would do me in. Something else would have to do. Clock is ticking, Bayless, it's ticking. She's looking at you, Bayless. Say something. Your silence only makes you appear more guilty! Think of something!

(An awww shucks grin) "I am Catholic. I don't do stuff like that," I said, knowing the Eddie Haskell approach was doomed to failure -- after all, I have declined opportunities to go to Sunday Mass with Bibi and the kids on more than one occasion in the past.

"Oh, you're Catholic all of the sudden, are you?" Bibi smelled a rat.

"Yes."

"Today is the Assumption. Have you been to Mass already?"

Of all the days to use the "I'm Catholic, I'm above that" line for denying a sin, I pick a holy day of obligation. And of course, it was (yet another) holy day of obligation that I didn't feel too obliged to attend.

I had not been to Mass; in fact, I didn't know I had been supposed to go to Mass today. I told Bibi the truth about that one.

She pondered the breakdown of morality seemingly going on all around her, in her own home, before speaking again.

"You know, I think we should all go to church right now," Bibi said to the table, thereby proposing the unheard of "going to Mass" / "going for ice cream after dinner" switcheroo.

"Nooooooon, mama!" came an impassioned plea from the youngest, Tomas, a.k.a. "Toto." He wasn't about to let my penance get in the way of his two scoops of ice cream.

"No church!" Toots exclaimed in unison with her little brother.

I just sat there -- I had already said too much with my blatant "I'm Catholic" line, which could be translated into "Guilty as charged." But the Knapp children, they all screamed for ice cream, despite their mother's warnings that an emergency Communion wafer was in order to restore their God-given grace. Breck, far from a member of the conservative religious right, was the tie-breaker -- and he knew it.

Without turning his head from the task of rinsing his plate off in the sink, Breck spoke.

"Let's go get ice cream."

And just like that, I was off the hook. But Bibi knows I'm full of it now. Which is just perfect.