My talented friend Jesse Kornbluth and his family are in France for much of the summer and his wonderful baby daughter has been sending letters across the pond with a little help from Dad. Here’s a snippet of the latest one I’ve seen:
Dear American Friend,
Busy week for me in France. Things have happened…
I’ll start with something “juicy.” We were in Domme, a medieval town on top of a cliff. Daddy didn’t want to go to the “fine dining” restaurant, so we went to a little place where I could walk around on the terrace. On the way out, a man called out to Daddy. They hadn’t seen each other since 1985, and Daddy was very flattered to be recognized, because I gather he feels his looks have changed a lot since then. Daddy brought the man over to meet us. The man said, with a wink, “But, you know, you’re really NOT meeting me.”
Are you confused? I was. When we drove away, Daddy explained that Mr. X was married to someone VERY CLOSELY connected to his first wife’s family, but that he was having dinner with a woman he wasn’t married to. I don’t want to make trouble, but SOMEONE ought to check her husband’s credit card bills next month. No need to thank me, Mrs X. — just thought you should know.
Ten days more, and we’re off to Paris. Daddy’s already nostalgic, but sometimes I catch Mommy in the kitchen dancing around and whispering “Paris! Paris!” One thing my parents agree on: They can’t wait to go to restaurants that DON’T serve duck, duck and more duck. But they’re nervous about taking me to Joel Rebuchon’s new restaurant. Is it because they bring my food to every restaurant? Like M. Rebuchon could improve on hot dogs and mac ‘n cheese!
Bedtime! Gotta go.
Love,
Boogins
Little Miss Boogins is as beautiful as she is clever, and promises to be as fine a writer as her Dad…
My talented friend Jesse Kornbluth and his family are in France for much of the summer and his wonderful baby daughter has been sending letters across the pond with a little help from Dad. Here’s a snippet of the latest one I’ve seen:
Dear American Friend,
Busy week for me in France. Things have happened…
I’ll start with something “juicy.” We were in Domme, a medieval town on top of a cliff. Daddy didn’t want to go to the “fine dining” restaurant, so we went to a little place where I could walk around on the terrace. On the way out, a man called out to Daddy. They hadn’t seen each other since 1985, and Daddy was very flattered to be recognized, because I gather he feels his looks have changed a lot since then. Daddy brought the man over to meet us. The man said, with a wink, “But, you know, you’re really NOT meeting me.”
Are you confused? I was. When we drove away, Daddy explained that Mr. X was married to someone VERY CLOSELY connected to his first wife’s family, but that he was having dinner with a woman he wasn’t married to. I don’t want to make trouble, but SOMEONE ought to check her husband’s credit card bills next month. No need to thank me, Mrs X. — just thought you should know.
Ten days more, and we’re off to Paris. Daddy’s already nostalgic, but sometimes I catch Mommy in the kitchen dancing around and whispering “Paris! Paris!” One thing my parents agree on: They can’t wait to go to restaurants that DON’T serve duck, duck and more duck. But they’re nervous about taking me to Joel Rebuchon’s new restaurant. Is it because they bring my food to every restaurant? Like M. Rebuchon could improve on hot dogs and mac ‘n cheese!
Bedtime! Gotta go.
Love,
Boogins
Little Miss Boogins is as beautiful as she is clever, and promises to be as fine a writer as her Dad…