I never put much thought to the “country kid.”  We are in France.  We are part of Europe.  Things go like they go go.   We are hip.  We have the interwebz!

I went shopping with Otto and Lucy today and realized, “gee, I guess they don’t get out much.”  They were on fire today.  Nonstop yapping. and so loud!  They mapped and charted all the automobile brands ( “marque” in French ).  “What’s the one with four circles?”  And “how about the one with the fierce lion?!”  And ” OOOOoo!  It’s that diamond!”  And ” that looks like the Peace sign!” With paper and pen, they had the marques mapped.  I was surprised and concerned with how quickly I could recognise and share the oncoming car brands.  Boo to you!  Two times did we see a BMW ( No Otto, that is three letters ).  Not once did we see a Porsche.  “What does “BMW” stand for?”  Me, “I don’t know!”

All the way, as we dodged dodgy objects, so the questions set in.

Lucy: why is she walking on the road?

Me: because there are no sidewalks

Lucy: what is a sidewalk?

Or Otto noticing houses around Auch:

Otto: Why are the houses so close together?

Or stopping at a traffic light.  Us in the right lane with no one behind.  Facing us, three cars stopped waiting for green.

Lucy and Otto: Look at all the traffic!!!!

Or

Otto: Mom, is that a Bitch?

Me: I don’t know, Otto, I can’t see the dog close enough

Otto: So is it a Bitch?

Me: It may or may not be a bitch.  Please stop saying, “bitch.”

We went to the Thrift Shop today. I love the Thrift Shop. Our kids earn cash working the farm. If I take them to “toyville” they became saddened because the only thing they want costs forty Euoros. Take them the the Thrift Shop and suddenly their dreams come true because helicopters that fly or kites or a bundle of Barbies dresses ( manufactured and handmade ) cost but a shilling. Done deal and retail therapy satisfied.