Open Bouche

After I became pregnant, I decided that I would speak to Mac predominantly in French. It just made sense to teach him a language that I could already (sort of) speak. Not long after I made this decision I came to the realisation that no matter what I did, my kid was going to end up a little bit Frenglish. Because it doesn't matter how consistent you are, when one parent speaks French and one parent speaks English it's going to get mixed up in the kids mind and come out in the same sentence.

Today was the first GLARING example of that. And it made me chuckle.  Mac has been in love with the fridge (like any good man) for a long time. I'm pretty sure he thinks it's a magic box full of surprises and he will open the door and stand there and just stare. After the house has sufficiently cooled, he will start bringing me random items of foodage, asking to taste it. I don't so much mind, but I'm pretty sure that my husband hears CHA-CHING each time Mac stands there and leaves the fridge door open. It drives him nuts. Nearly apoplectic. But I digress.

I was on the phone with the City's Planning department today trying to organise stuff for the new house (more on that later). My son had been quiet - not in the creepy "Oh my gosh he's destroying something" way, but in the quiet by-myself-playing-noiselessly sort of way. Suddenly, he ran up to me holding one of those aerosol cans of whipped cream. (Side note: The day I bought it, he couldn't figure out what it was, so I had told him to open his mouth and I squirted some in it. He was mildly amused at first, and then progressively became more and more horrified as it started foaming out of his mouth. I don't think he knew that he could swallow it. I laughed and didn't think anything more about it until...)He ran up to me while I was on the phone and said "MOM!!! OPEN BOUCHE!!!" Yep.  Open bouche. Nice, huh? I'm so proud of my little Frenglishman!
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