You know how it is when you give birth to an innocent dewdrop of a baby, and everyone else’s kids suddenly become gargantuan monstrosities that revile and disgust no less than the giants in Gulliver’s Travels?
Well, my sister came to stay with us with her petit chou (little cabbage) of a newborn and managed to still love my children. Somehow even her husband managed to still love them. too
They played with them, hugged them, talked to them for hours and hours (and hours) on end …
Well – they tried to talk to them, but some of them, ahem (no matter how many times you repeated yourself), could not get it into their
gargantuan monstrosity of a small head that their auntie and uncle didn’t speak French. This challenge coming over jetlagged, weary, sleep-deprived brains. My poor, poor sister.
You’re cute. But I have no idea what you’re saying.