children get away with murder FACT

The girls are continuing their mischievous ways. The nine year old is somewhat of a good actress: she likes to pretend to be very sick, very upset, or badly hurt. This I fear has already cost me my first grey hairs as I am constantly made to believe she has come to some harm. This theatrical act of hers becomes particularly challenging when we are in the car and whilst driving I am convinced she is dying or extremely emotionally distraught until someone informs me it’s a joke. I now just completely ignore her which will definitely come back to bite her in the bum one day when she is actually hurt or upset and I don’t give a dam. Two can play at that game.

Yesterday we went to Avignon in the evening and there was a carousel, as well as the usual horses there was a cabin that spun round. After two goes on the horses (which were great fun and definitely not just for children) I decided to join the girls in the spinning cabin. The girls quickly realized that I become sick quite quickly and spun this cabin round as quickly as humanly possible until I literally was near to being sick. They found this hilarious. I managed not to be sick, however the four year old who was also with us was pretty ill afterwards. I am feeling dizzy just thinking about it.

Continuing on how the children try to annoy me watch. The four year old has discovered that in the swimming pool attempting to pull down my bikini bottoms produces quite a reaction from me. I then tried to rectify this by pulling down his swim shorts which was inevitably going to be a big mistake as I have started a war. Oh and he has discovered stink bombs, which are for some unknown reason to me sold in little glass bottles. The four year old therefore thought it would be funny to throw one in my bedroom and one down the stairs. Firstly my bedroom and the house then stank and secondly there was left lots of pieces of glass which the eleven year old promptly stood on. You know how sometimes cuts just bleed and bleed well this one went for it. You can probably picture the resulting scene - blood everywhere, the house reeking of rotten eggs, the eleven year old crying out in pain, the four year old laughing, and the girls screaming after seeing the blood. I am so glad the parents did not walk in then or else I think my au pairing skills would have been severely questioned!

Spending all my time with children has also made me realize I am also slightly jealous of the life of a four year old. Basically you get away with murder, you fart and everyone thinks its funny. If you get tired you just call out Mamam or Papa and someone carries you. Hungry or thirsty and food and drink is instantly provided. You spend all your time playing games and watching TV. And my four year old is even technologically savy and can text, use the computer, work a WII, and use a mobile. Oh the simple life.

We went to a restaurant the other night and the four year old was very keen on the cuisine. Lots of sausages were present, which he loves. For a four year old he managed to devour quite a lot and afterwards proceeded to walk round everyone in the table with his top lifted up saying ‘regard mon gros ventre’ (look at my huge stomach). Totally unacceptable for anyone but him. I wish I could do that.

French cuisine is also intriguing me. They like to eat their meals separately. For instance they don’t put everything on the same plate but divide up all the different things on the table and they eat raw onions and so much olive oil and they literally put herbs de Provence on everything! I just put all the food on the table on the same plate which they think is very amusing. The French however in my opinion have no leg to stand on firstly they eat pigs ears in this potted pickled jam thing. Secondly, they have snails in the freezer section of supermarkets. This I find absolutely hilarious – there is literally a fairly big section full of frozen snails just so you always have those snails ready in your freezer if god forbid you run out. I brought my camera along to the supermarket as I felt a photo had to be taken.

I am further slightly concerned that the person who seems to like me the most here is the dog who follows me everywhere. When I go into the local village they all think I am mad. Firstly because we live in the country and here dogs are for guarding the farm and not really treated like pets and secondly the dog is some crazy cross-breed between a Labrador and something with short legs (yes this looks as funny as it sounds). When I go out on the bike he literally runs alongside me the whole way even on main roads and roundabouts to the amusement of drivers. At least I have a friend who will risk his life for me here and he is quite good for practicing my French on as he doesn’t laugh at my terrible accent….