with my oldest boy for crepes (and a warm goat cheese salad for me).
He looks like he won the lottery when the waiter brings his treat
and he looks devastated when five minutes later, he cleared the plate.
I was brave enough to speak French the whole time, which may have been slightly embarassing for Paul. But I am a mom now, so this is a given.
I also love having him ask me about my time in France, because he can’t really imagine me living a life without daddy or my children. When I tell the stories aloud, I feel like I am describing someone else, but it is really just the younger me.