My boy now goes around saying, “Ca va, Papa?” My girl now pretends to smoke. Have we been in France too long?
Nah. St. Remy de Provence is a little heaven. Our hotel is unbelievable with a romantic view (hard for me to capture on the iPhone, but I tried) and a pool. The kids have discovered three sweet shops in a one-block radius. Try getting us to leave.
Of course our bodies are turning to mush. Yes, we walk a ton. But I haven’t run since Paris and I’m guessing I probably won’t. The kids have barely glanced at a vegetable, never mind eaten one. Breakfast has hot chocolate. Often a pain au chocolat. We usually have a midday ice cream. Lunch for the boy is (deja vu?) steak hachette (a burger) and for the girl plain pasta with butter. Cokes to keep them going. Must have a pastry or macaroon or bon bon. Dinner for the boy is steak hachette (a burger) and for the girl plain pasta with butter. Orangina to make sure they’re not caffeinated at night. And it generally comes with dessert.
As hard as it’s going to be for us grown ups, the kids are in for a world of hurt–in the manner of carrots and red peppers–when we return!
