More photos. No descriptions. What's a mom to do but come to her own logical conclusions.
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| Across the lake, the Italian language village lies sleeping while the French village plots. |
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| Translation: we invade tonight |
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| But since we are French, crudites for EVERYONE! |
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| And les brownies! |
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| Tomorrow I go to battle, but tonight my love, we DANCE our last tango in Paris. |
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| Au revoir mon amour! At least we had Bemidji! |
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| Feast before the assault |
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| Choreography can only mean one thing: the invasion has BEGUN |
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| The villagers rejoice! |
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| We will wear these disguises. No one will know! |
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| And use our cardboard axes! |
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| But wait, are those more croissants??? I grow dizzy at the thought of them. |
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| On second thought, let's just send them hate mail. "Your pasta is undercooked and your bread is stale" |
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| We'd rather watch a movie in the A/C. Bonne Nuit! |
4 comments:
Admit it already; you missed those kids.
I am laughing my tail off. I love your humor, Marie.
Love it -- so glad to have the commentary so that I know what is going on in the pictures. I never would have guessed so much invading went on...
It's Europe, so, you know, the tanks are rolling.
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