soit
I work at home, and so does Jacques. We work with each other's schedules, trading off on who gets to eat lunch first, changes outfits more, wins staring contests, etc.
We are best buddies, and the worst of bunk mates. Nights when he sleeps well, I wake up more often, shocked to find him peacefully dreaming of what I imagine to be either a benevolent, always available breast whose milk never ceases to flow or a ladybug mobile that never, ever stops spinning. Conversely, when Monsieur awakes to chuckle and squeak at 3h, then 4h, then maybe 6h I am (naturally) really not game.
But we're getting there. Apparently breast-fed babies take a while to get to the point where they sleep through the night. And to be honest, I am actually doing okay waking up twice a night. Indeed, it has taught me something about how one becomes French.
From day one, whenever Jacques got a bit grumpy, or downright MAD, ("what the HELL are you doing changing my filthy diaper before feeding me?? Boobs over dryness, homies.") J-B only had to break into "Le petit bonhomme en mousse" in a dramatic baritone and Jacques was instantly appeased. Since then, we've also had astounding success with such gems as "Dschinghis Khan", "Siffler sur la colline," and vulgar rugby songs that would make your uncle blush. It seems that any chanson pourrie will do.
One day Jacques will instinctively understand the hilarity of certain French songs, personalities, shows and where and when to drop those references. While Weird Al may never hold a sacred, nostalgic place in his psyche, Joe Dassin will...?
Sarkozy wants a debate on the question of what it means to be French? "Le petit bonhomme en mousse" is in there somewhere.
.jpg)
We are best buddies, and the worst of bunk mates. Nights when he sleeps well, I wake up more often, shocked to find him peacefully dreaming of what I imagine to be either a benevolent, always available breast whose milk never ceases to flow or a ladybug mobile that never, ever stops spinning. Conversely, when Monsieur awakes to chuckle and squeak at 3h, then 4h, then maybe 6h I am (naturally) really not game.
But we're getting there. Apparently breast-fed babies take a while to get to the point where they sleep through the night. And to be honest, I am actually doing okay waking up twice a night. Indeed, it has taught me something about how one becomes French.
From day one, whenever Jacques got a bit grumpy, or downright MAD, ("what the HELL are you doing changing my filthy diaper before feeding me?? Boobs over dryness, homies.") J-B only had to break into "Le petit bonhomme en mousse" in a dramatic baritone and Jacques was instantly appeased. Since then, we've also had astounding success with such gems as "Dschinghis Khan", "Siffler sur la colline," and vulgar rugby songs that would make your uncle blush. It seems that any chanson pourrie will do.
One day Jacques will instinctively understand the hilarity of certain French songs, personalities, shows and where and when to drop those references. While Weird Al may never hold a sacred, nostalgic place in his psyche, Joe Dassin will...?
Sarkozy wants a debate on the question of what it means to be French? "Le petit bonhomme en mousse" is in there somewhere.
.jpg)
Comments