ma mère française
Jerris and I, I think, have been extremely lucky to be assigned to our particular host mother.
Initially, I had wanted to live with a more traditional “family” - reasoning that having children around would help my French considerably.
This is probably true.
But Mme. de Sars is just so damn sweet I can’t complain. Not only is she extremely patient with my French, and quite adept at figuring out what I actually intend to say (especially as she speaks “no English” - more or less comparable to the “some French” I claim to speak), she’s just an altogether silly woman.
Last night at dinner, she mentioned that she had spent her day buying “useless things.” We pressed further. What did you buy, Madame? “Plein du merde!” And, gleefully chanting “c’est stupide!” she proceeded to show us some of the things she had bought, including (but not limited to):
- A mousepad with a fake Euro bill sticking out from under it, reading “It’s not your money”
- A plastic ghost which lights up and shrieks at the touch of a button (to her unending amusement)
- Cactus-patterned toilet paper
Precious.
