Today Eldest had French homework. It consisted of picking information out of a French child’s description of his family members. My dad has short hair. My sister has green eyes. Etc.
He then had to formulate his own description of a family member. I had lightly supervised part one of the homework and then had to leave to collect his siblings from after school clubs.
I dropped a kiss on his head (this is still tolerated) and left him to it.
When I got back he had written:
Ma mere s’appelle Sarah. Elle as cheveux courts et bruns et gris et les yeux verte.
Ma mere est tres, tres, tres, tres, tres gentil et aussi assez curieuse mais elle n’est pas branchee.
It was a moment. One of those wonderful, tear jerking, time stopping, heart breaking moments that happen in parenthood. One that can be held onto during the rows and grunting and snappiness.
I will forgive him the grey hair. The nosiness. The untrendiness. For all those tres….
I can’t think of a better compliment than to be ‘five times very’ kind.
It has made my week.