French Children Don't Throw Food

Cover French Children Don't Throw Food
Genres: Fiction
She’s even studying French, though it’s not going as well as she’d like. An American friend of hers, who lived in Panama but spoke little Spanish, suggests a technique: say a Spanish sentence in the present tense, then shout the name of the intended tense. ‘I go to the store … pasado!’ means that she went to the store. ‘I go to the store … futuro!’ means that she’ll go later.
I’ve forbidden my mother from doing this when she comes to visit. To my astonishment, I now have a reputation to protect
.... I have three kids in the local school, and courteous relationships with neighbourhood fishmongers, tailors and café proprietors.
I still haven’t swooned for Paris. I get tired of the elaborate exchange of bonjours, and of using the distancing vous with everyone but colleagues and intimates. Living in France feels a bit too formal, and doesn’t bring out my freewheeling side. I realize how much I’ve changed when, on the Métro one morning, I instinctively back away from the man sitting next to the only empty seat, because I have the impression that he’s deranged.
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