Conversation at 9.30 yesterday evening:
Him: Tomorrow’s the last day at school and it has just occurred to me that we should probably buy presents for the teachers.
Me: Curse, curse, swear.
Me: OK, we can cannabilise the present I got for my aunt, into three different presents and I’ll get her something else.
Him: And the other people in the garderie and so on?
Me (in the boulangerie): And I’ll have three little packets of chocolates as well please.
Woman in shop: That will be 30 euros.
Me: 30 EUROS! Do you take cards?
Woman in shop: No.
Trek to bank tugging trailing Princess. Come back, buy world’s most expensive chocolates, turn up to school with sack of goodies.
Princess’s teachers: Oh presents how kind – much kissing. Presents are opened.
Teacher A: Oh, a book of, um, war photographs, how nice.
What can I say, my aunt is arty I thought a book of Robert Capa pics would be appealing.
Teacher B: Gosh, more war photographs, um, how interesting.
Teacher C: And some fridge magnets.
My aunt is also a bit hard to buy for, alright.
And so now I have no present for my aunt. In other news, the Princess may have lice again and we went to see Shrek yesterday, these items are not related but I thought I would include the former for completeness. She did not like Shrek. She sat on my lap, a ball of terror repeating “I want to go home” at regular intervals. She was particularly distressed by the irreverent portrayal of the Disney Princesses. Alas.