Team Cucumber VS Team Cheese

Tags

Cheese, children, Cucumber, Family, food, funny, Humor, kids, Relationships, stay-at-home Dad

Aside from the cucumbers this has absolutely nothing to do with this post.

 

‘Bleuuuuuurgh’ I look at the frowning face opposite me. ‘Oooooh that’s disgusting, eurghh!’ the frowning face’s eyes are now desperately looking for something to take the taste of this ‘disgusting’ thing away from the frowning face’s mouth.

The frowning face belongs to my partner, she’s sat opposite me, next to my daughter, at the dinner table. The cause of her frown? She’s just dipped her bread in the delicious sauce that was on my daughter’s plate, accompanying her meal. A delicious sauce that she herself cooked. So why the long face? Well that’s down to the addition of cucumbers to my daughter’s plate, their flavour has infiltrated the delicious sauce* and this has caused her revulsion.

You see we now live in a house divided. One which hopefully will stand. On the one side we have team cheese – my partner and my son. On the other side sit us, team cucumber, comprised of my daughter and I.

I’ve been waiting for an ally to join my side, in my love of cucumbers, for many years. I think my daughter’s love of cucumbers may even go beyond mine.

My partner also hates bananas.

My daughter loves bananas.

I can take or leave bananas.

That’s why this blog is called ‘Team Cucumber VS Team Cheese’ and not ‘Team Bananas VS Team Apples’.

My son is similarly repulsed by cucumbers, but I’m sure I can persuade him one day to try them. Maybe when he’s 26, and drunk.

Very specific about his food is my son – it has to fall into one of four categories:Bread

     1. Bread

     2. Ham

     3. Potatoes

     4. Cheese

Anything else and he is simply not interested.

So we have divided up into our two camps, and even have special call signs. They are very inventive. My team is called ‘Team Cucumber’ and eats cucumbers, and their team is called ‘Team Cheese’ and eats cheese.

The problem for them is that I also eat cheese.

They don’t like this.

They think that because of my sick love of cucumbers I should be banned from eating cheese.

I laugh in the face of their rules.

HA! I say to them as I eat a Babybel.

You should see what I’m going to do next – I’m going to make a cheese and cucumber sandwich. I think my daughter might try a bit, but knowing her she’ll remove the cheese and just eat the cucumber.

Then I will leave the cheese out for my partner, she will see it, pop it in her mouth and then: ‘Bleuuuuuurgh’ I will once again see the frowning face. ‘Oooooh that’s disgusting, eurghh!’…..

Team cucumber don’t mind stooping to dirty tricks you see, mwa ha ha ha!

 

 

*I have to keep saying that the sauce was delicious because she reads these things and so I’ve got to watch my back or there will be no more delicious, delicious sauces

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The Best Photograph Of The Holiday…

Tags

Family, kids, love, photography, Photos, Relationships, stay-at-home Dad

Here it is, my favourite shot from our recent holiday. Showing the beauty of my daughter (Oh I’m going to have fun when she’s older) and the goofy sweetness of my son. One of those photos that makes you feel blessed…

 

Also the sea looked lovely too.

Watch Out! Watch Out! The Scam Artists Are About!

Tags

Family, France, French, fun, funny, Humor, Relationships, stay-at-home Dad

 

I have endured a spate of thefts since arriving in France and I am under no illusions, and in fact know that it is being perpetrated by a couple of ex-pats.

 

This happens every day, at all hours and can sometimes even happen while I am in my own house, asleep.

 

It’s not huge amounts – but the amount is irrelevant, it’s the fact that it continues to happen that annoys me.

 

I’d like to warn anyone in the 18 region of France to be on the lookout for them – one is seven and the other one is four. They will be all smiles and laughs but then later on you will realise that you are 50 Cents lighter and someone’s nicked all your Ferrero Rochers.

 

Their usual technique is to say ‘Daddy I love you, can I have a cuddle?’ while batting their eyelids. Then while you are cuddling them the other one will be standing on a chair and hunting for your chocolates.

 

I have looked into this but unfortunately it appears that there is no escape, and this scam will continue, unabated, for the next 14 – 20 years and will evolve into other, more sophisticated scams involving lifts home, radio controlled cars and ‘lending’ them a few quid ‘Just till Friday’.

My Daughter Isn’t Very Good At Hide-And-Seek…

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Family, fun, funny, games, holidays, Humor, Learning, Photos, stay-at-home Dad

I think she’s kind of grasped the concept, but is taking more of a ‘Monty Python’ approach to it.

 

However as the game went along, she definitely showed improvement…

 

…but still a way to go yet I think!

Running With My Son…

Tags

Family, kids, love, Relationships, school

 

Every day we do this son.

 

You look at me, your eyes glinting with fun.

 

‘My bag’s too heavy Daddy’ you say with a grin.

 

Then you pass me your bag and head off, eager to win.

 

You know it will slow me, and give you a head-start.

 

And so I grudgingly shoulder your burden, as you depart.

 

Every day we have a race across the park, to your school.

 

Every day you ‘win’, I let you, but that’s cool.

 

Because your legs are getting longer, your lungs stronger as well.

 

And soon you’ll really be the winner, that much I can tell.

 

So for now I’ll just treasure these mornings we share.

 

Running after your little legs, laughing together, not having a care.

 

Other parents watch us, as we race through the grass.

 

Or they move out of our way, happy to let us pass.

 

It’s our thing, our ritual, our little bit of fun.

 

We do it in all weathers, but I prefer the sun.

 

Because seeing you running, your golden hair lit up by its rays.

 

Will live with me forever, till the end of my days.

How To Increase Your French Vocabulary At McDonald’s…

Tags

Family, food, France, French, fun, Humor, Language, Learning

We are in the middle of some seriously miserable weather here in our part of France. It’s basically a case of: Monday – Rain. Tuesday – Rain. Wednesday – Rain and wind. You get the idea. So, as crafts indoors will only get you so far before both you and your kids go insane and start trying to make a giant quilt made from string to cover your house or cat (or both), we decide to head to McDonald’s.

And by ‘We’ I mean ‘Me’. Well, until one of them learns to drive and gets a job I’m the dictator of this small state. At least between the hours of 9am – 6pm, Monday to Friday anyway. I then cede control to my other half.

I always bow down to a superior wage.

Especially when I don’t have one myself.

Anyway so I announce my intention to take us off to McDonald’s for a treat, and am met with happy shouts and cries of ‘Yes! Yes!’ ‘No more crafts!’ ‘Let me just finish stitching the third eye on this bird/crocodile thing!’. My daughter puts down her craft implements, and my son stops painting ‘NO MORR CRAfTs My THumBZ HUrT’ on his picket sign, and we head out the door.

I like our trips to the Golden Arches (TM), it’s not something we do often, for financial reasons as well as health reasons. The health reasons are more for me than the kids. There’s been a lot said about the nutritional balance now available in the meals, but at the end of the day it’s still chips and meat, and not much in the way of vegetables.

Unless you count the gherkins.

Also the kids never finish theirs, which means I invariably hoover up the detritus of their meals. I’m from Yorkshire – we don’t like waste.

So we roll up at the restaurant – eating in as usual as buying at the drive-thru, and eating in the car, is a recipe for everybody going insane. Going home with it isn’t an option either, as we are just distant enough for us to return home to some nicely congealed burgers, and some tepid fries.

The kids – as usual – plump for the Happy Meal, and I input their orders at the self-service kiosk. You can say what you want about stuff like this, how it’s detracting from the customer-service experience; how it’s taking people’s jobs. Say what you will. For me, as an Englishman whose grasp of French isn’t quite there just yet, having all these nice photographs to refer to when placing an order makes it much easier, and less stressful. The kids can see exactly what they want to order too.

We sit down (at our set of three couple’s tables, that should seat six, but my children have dominated the area, much to the annoyance of the other people in the rather crowded restaurant) receive our food and tuck into it. Well, after opening up the toys that is. As with any kids, my children’s priorities are: Toys first, food second.

This week’s promotional toy is from the Mr Men range, the Roger Hargreaves designed range of humorous characters. There seems to be 90 in total to collect. I don’t know if that’s more or less than the total Pokemon.The kids have two each. They hastily swap out the lady and man from each of their bags so that my son is left with two Mr Men awhile my daughter has the two Little Missus. Or Little Mrs. Whatever.

My kids don’t go in for all this gender-neutral nonsense. He likes boy’s toys, she likes girl’s toys, and that’s that as far as they’re concerned.

Once we have finished we head on over to the craft station, a great little corner that is – surprisingly – always empty when we go.

This is where I see the following drawings for the kids to colour in:

In case you are thinking ‘But where are all the ladies? Maybe on the other side of the paper?’. The answer is no, there’s nothing but blank space. There was only one lady to colour in – but she was massive, if that helps:

I found this very educational – please bear with me on this – as along with the pictures for the kids to colour in, there were also guides to the names of the characters – both male and female. Now this may sound silly to you, but with my level of French, things like this are really useful.

The Mr Men characters have always been named after everyday feelings, and effects – like Mr Bump, or Mr Angry, Mr Happy etc. So having a guide, with pictures that correspond to the characters, and give you a clue to what the names mean is a fantastic help for me:

 

I take every bit of help I can when it comes to learning the lingo in this country.

But does that mean that I’m going to try and collect all 90 of the characters?

Non.

My vocabulary would definitely increase if I did.

But so would my waistline.

 

What It’s Like: Watching A Film With My Four-Year-Old Daughter…

Tags

children, cinema, entertainment, Family, film, fun, funny, Humor, kids, Parenting, Relationships, stay-at-home Dad

The following is an example of my daughter’s dialogue, spoken over the first ten minutes of pretty much any film that you could think of, that is suitable for children aged four. It doesn’t matter what genre it is, it will always follow the same pattern…

‘What’s that?’

‘Why are they doing that?’

‘Is he the baddy?’

‘Why is he the baddy?’

‘Is he the baddy?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Where has she gone?’

‘Can I have some chocolate?’

‘I have not already had some’

‘No’

‘No’

‘No’

‘The baddy is a man?’

‘Why is the baddy a man?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Why is he green?’

‘Are they the goodies?’

‘Why did he break that?’

‘Is it because he is bad?’

‘Is it?’

‘Can I have some more chocolate?’

‘Why not?’

‘Why not?’

‘Pleasssse????’

‘Can I have some more chocolate?’

‘Where are they?’

‘What is that?’

‘Does the baddy want that?

‘Is he the baddy?’

‘I want a cuddle’

‘Are they the goodies?’

‘What is that?’

‘Is that a weapon?’

‘Why did it do that?’

‘What’s a bomb?’

‘Does the baddy want that?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’

‘Can I have some chocolate?’

‘Why not?’

‘They are the goodies aren’t they?’

‘They are strong aren’t they?’

‘Daddy you smell bad’

‘And you need a shave’

‘Can I have some chocolate?’

The Christmas Market At Baugy – Cold Enough To Freeze The Balls Off A Brass Monkey!

Tags

christmas, Family, France, French, fun, funny, Humor, Markets, photography, Photos

Nothing screams Christmas like a metal Minion. Handcrafted, and yours for just 750 Euros.

Brrrrr. Whose idea was this? Christmas markets sound lovely in theory, don’t they? Then you get there and there are loads and loads of people, browsing stalls that are – unhappily – selling loads and loads of tat.

Then there are the stalls that are selling artisanal items, handcrafted and carefully painted, they’ve clearly had a lot of effort put into them. You’d hope so anyway, after you look at the price tag. 250 Euros for a Flamingo made out of copper and bamboo? Are you having a laugh?

I also love the fact that – no matter what the theme of the market, or for whatever reason it’s being held – you will always, always find a hook-a-duck stall doing a roaring trade. These things are essentially pound shops with hook-a-ducks stuck on the front of them. And they will always have at least one toy that your child will want, that they can’t have for some reason.

‘So the plastic sword and shield are ok?’. Oui, they will nod at you.

‘And the plastic Slinky is ok?’. Oui, they will nod at you.

‘But not the radio controlled drone with 2.4 megapixel camera?’. Non, they will say to you.

Honestly, hook-a-duck stalls and those carousel* rides are just another form of tax for parents.

I sound like a Christmas-market Grinch don’t I? I do like them, really, but not when they are so busy and sooooooo cold.

You’d think I’d know better, time of year and all. Maybe I should start a campaign to hold Christmas markets in June, and then limit the amount of attendees to something reasonable. Like ten people. That’s me, the missus, the kids and 6 stall holders.

And nobody is allowed to sell goods in excess of 30 Euros.

And no smelly cheeses.

And no stalls selling tat.

And no tiny dogs that I keep nearly stepping on.

Bah humbug.

Anyway, enough moaning. We went to one near us in Baugy recently, a quaint little village tucked away in central France. It had the usual stuff. Here are some photographs for you to have a look at.

Oh, and in case I haven’t impressed it upon you enough – IT WAS BLOODY COLD.

And that’s coming from a Yorkshire man.

Enjoy!

42% of this shot is pavement – I had it measured by Yourphotographyskillssuck.fr

 

Bit more like it, nice Christmas tree – note women who has 5% of face visible, did I mention it was cold?

 

Yes, that is indeed a 1100 litre Rubbermaid Brute wheelie bin. Magnificent isn’t she?

 

Here we have a depiction of the lesser-known Santa, Freak Santa, so called because he has no arms, and he’s been in the game that long that his sack has fused to his body. Poor Freak Santa.

 

Another fabulous shot of mostly-pavement.

 

Note the juxtaposition of the foreground star and background tree, such a union of Christmas imagery that one’s soul could weep. Actually no, it was the cold making my eyes water.

 

I had tried to trick my kids into entering this, allowing me to then leave them safely trapped within it. But they are wise to my ways, and now carry wire-cutters and stihl saws with them at all times, so that they can break out of whatever I try and lock them inside of.

 

Oh joy. Oh Christmas. Oh wow. I can’t feel my fingers anymore. And I’ve just asked somebody for a ‘Verre ob hob chobolabe’ because my lips have gone numb.

 

38% pavement.

 

Every single person in this shot is thinking the same thing: ‘It’s bloody cold, I don’t want a 5 foot metal butterfly for my garden, can we go home now?’.

 

Take one shed. Add Christmas lights. Hey Presto! One Christmas-themed shed! This one sold Monster energy drinks in case you are wondering.

 

All I want for Christmas is a pair of scissors and five minutes alone with Giant-Inflatable-Santa.

 

Now this was more like it! She had heat, she had sausages…but no brown sauce 😦

 

Look who’s eyeballing me – it looks like Mark Lamarr! Could be too, I’ve not seen him in years.

 

These Santas seem to have gotten quite commercial. This was the third we’d seen at various markets, and they all had professional photographers with them. We didn’t hang around to see what they were charging.

 

52% pavement

 

That poor man with no hair and no hat. Can you get a frostbite of the head?

 

This has to be the worst picture of the lot. Why have I even put this in here?

 

‘Mummy mummy, buy us some rubbish that we will later lose interest in and/or break. Buy it for us, or we will make your life hell for the next 30-90 minutes’.

 

I hope you enjoyed my photographical-feast**, full of positivism and love for all the things that make a Christmas market in France what it is.

Next time I will wear gloves.

And stay at home.

Have a lovely Christmas everyone xxx

 

*You know the ones I’m talking about, loads of cars and helicopters and crocodiles with badly painted Disney characters on them going round in a circle. They always dangles some weird-looking thing down so your kid can grab it and have another go for ‘free’. I say for free like that – in inverted commas – because they generally target parents with more than one kid on the ride. This is because they know that the other kid(s) will immediately kick off and so they will be forced to pay for another go round for the other child as well. Win-win for the carousel-owner.

**Yes, I know photographical isn’t a word. It’s redlined – twice – as I’m typing this. I don’t care.

My First Film In A French Cinema…

Tags

cinema, entertainment, Family, Films, France, French, fun, Humor

 

Went to see my first film in a French cinema today – no subtitles, all in French.

 

It was a harrowing tale of an illegal immigrant who has made his way to England, and settled in with a family, only to have his life turned upside-down when he is wrongfully accused of burglary.

 

The film then follows his life as it further deteriorates after he is imprisoned.

 

All hope is not lost though and, with the help of his heretofore under-utilised culinary skills, he manages to charm the other prisoners, and is accepted as one of them, despite his strange mannerisms and foreign ways.

 

The community where he used to live is seen to fall apart without him, as he is clearly shown to be the ‘glue’ that held it all together.

 

 

I won’t spoil any more of the film, or the ending for you, but will just say that Paddington 2 is very, very good.

 

French Shopping Trolleys Abused By The English!

Tags

Family, France, French, fun, funny, Humor, kids, Photos, shopping

In case you are wondering, while they don’t say anything, I get the feeling that the staff at Intermarche ( a French chain of supermarkets)  frown about this misuse of mini trolleys.

 

Plus points? It allows your kids to comfortably play the motion-control game that your son insists on playing (‘just for five minutes daddy’) every time you go in there. Your daughter can also sit beside him as though she’s at the cinema, and ensure that she is in ‘striking distance’ for when it inevitably kicks off.

 

Negative points? You try pushing two of these while carrying a pack of beer, a pizza, a loaf of bread and some milk (yes, ‘les essentials’) it’s not easy and balancing them on the kids just looks wrong.

 

They do make an excellent battering ram though, if you encounter any ‘dawdlers’ in the chilled meats section.