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The Poster Boys

7/16/2012

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{ This post was published a day late. }

It's Sunday evening and I have much on my mind. Just two hours ago JL's nephews bade us farewell, having spent a full week with us, most days without their parents. And I'm missing them now largely because the boys, JL and I did many, many silly things together this past week. 

Every morning they would be up - between 7:30 and 8am - before us but no problem, as that's their quality time with Mamie (grandma for the French kids). Papie would have already left the house to attend to his garden a short drive away and he wouldn't be back till 11am. Thus between breakfast and lunch, JL and I had to keep an eye on them. I loved it because that's when JL's at his most creative, coming up with ways to play with whatever's available. How many ways can you play with a ball? Infinitely many.

The brothers, E and N, are truly lovable. They're also my poster boys - both are photogenic, and cooperative even to the point of working the camera without me prompting anymore. When they were younger (also when JL and I had only two weeks at most every June and December in France), they'd be conscious of the camera. These days they not only do not care when the camera is pointed at them, they'd even ask for me when something special or hilarious takes place. Like when they're having some fun in the bath, or when they want to see themselves doing their favourite things, predictably involving balls and bicycles. 
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I've also learned something very important about feeding children who are not your own. The boys LOVE sweets - anything with chocolate in particular. So I thought they'll be perfect to help finish the mini-Mars, mini-Snickers, mini-Dove and mini-everything else that aunt M brought the other evening. But thank God their mother had trained them well. When I showed E the bowl of these goodies and gave him a mini-Snickers, he took it and, as if on autopilot mode, asked if there's nuts in it. And then I remembered the story about the girl who died after being kissed by her boyfriend who had consumed some nuts earlier (which turned out to be untrue, by the way). 

So from now on, don't be offended if I don't feed your kids when I see them. And if you had given me dirty looks when I fed them in the past, I now understand. Anyway, E is only allergic to hazelnut but is fine with all others. No wonder he kept picking the almond pralines on our Saint Genix when no one's watching. We also learned what each one likes to eat, and what they would never want on their plate. Not that they get to choose an all-desserts meal though. They'll have some form of vegetables, meat, cheese and sweets in every seating.
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They're also very helpful with household chores, which is terribly impressive. I've seen them doing the dishes after breakfast; clearing the dinner table after meals; sweeping crumbs off the balcony; collecting shrubs when Papie trimmed the hedges; decorating cakes and tarts which Mamie baked. Okay, so the last one wasn't exactly a chore. But the reason I say they're terribly impressive is this: the younger N still hasn't learned to clean his own toosh after pooing! (Each time the deed is done, he yells "J'ai fini!!!" and either the mother or grandmother attends to him.)

The games they played, apart from balls and bicycles, include JL's matchbox cars and an entire collection of farm animals which would make any FarmVille fan squeal with delight (hey, it's the original FarmVille!), an inflated pool which will soon be too small for both boys, their medicine shop under the largest tree in the garden, their farmer's stall with Papie's fresh produces from his garden or anything conceivable. Seriously, they "sold" them to all the adults in the house, complete with delivery in paperbags. They enjoyed crushing cans and plastic bottles after dinner. They held music performances after meals, having given the adults handwritten tickets before. 
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And Poster Boys they were as they didn't get themselves in much trouble. And they only cried once each in the past ten days. First it was N because he played his drums set so crazily, he broke the spring on his pedal. One can only guess how much he loved his drums because he really cried. And I think so did his mother, a music teacher, when she consoled him. And E cried just hours before leaving. He has the habit of perching himself on the chair when playing cards, and then move about not caring if the chair is stable. Today, the chair finally comes crashing down. And I think he cried realizing that his carelessness could have broken the glass on Mamie's oven door. 

It's really easy to grow very fond of them. I'm missing their antics, that salty smell of their hair, and I sure hope they think of me whenever they hold their "microphones" singing away. Made out of crumpled, used bits of aluminium foil, it was something silly I made for them one evening, thinking they were just using it for their "concert". But hey, the boys brought the mics along when they left. Sweet.
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    briefly

    JL and S grew up in France and Malaysia respectively. They met while living in Singapore, stayed a year in the USA (Cambridge, MA) then the south of France, Malaysia, and are back again in the USA (New York, NY). 

    frenchinos at home is where we share some of our stories with friends, much like the living room, dine-in kitchen, or the timber-deck balcony which we've always wanted to have, which sounds most impossible where we live now. 

    Welcome and we're happy to have you here :)

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