Tadpole and I went away last weekend.
I love travelling with my daughter. Her excitement about going in a “taxi car” or a “metro trenn”, let alone a “choo choo trenn” or a “plenn” is deliciously infectious. The most mundane trip is transformed into an intrepid adventure in her company. For a few hours I see the world through Tadpole eyes, noticing details – people, smells, noises – that I would otherwise miss, floating around Paris as I do in an Ipod cocoon, my head filled with daydreams.
Once we are safely ensconced in our seats and the journey begins, we draw pictures together. And read stories. I bend countless times to retrieve errant crayons from under our seats. We watch the world speed by outside the window, paying special attention to Tadpole’s current Favourite Things: sheep, lorries and tractors. Sinful snacks are gleefully consumed. Tadpole particularly likes sharing Kit Kats – one bite for mummy, one bite for Tadpole – culminating in a gloriously messy chocolate kiss. Sometimes I find that the memories of the journey itself are among those I will treasure most after a weekend away.
When we reach our destination, we are greeted by “mummy’s friend” and his children, who are also staying for the weekend. The butterflies which have been fluttering anxiously around in my tummy as I gather our bags together cease their frantic activity the moment we step down onto the platform and and see them waiting, hands linked. We say our bashful hellos, and I concentrate on suppressing an overwhelming urge to throw myself into his arms.
Not yet. Not in front of the children.
As our little party sets off, I marvel at how pushing Tadpole through the streets of the town where he lives feels like the most natural thing in the world. As if I’d already been there and done it a thousand times before.
The rest of the day is a happy blur of icy sea, scalding sand and the scent of sunscreen. I sneak covert, sidelong glances at my lover while he drives, the children napping in the back seat of the car. I love every single moment of our time en famille. But I’m also counting the seconds, yearning for the moment when the children will go to bed, so that, at long last, we can be alone.
Bliss.
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petite anglaise 
I’ll believe it when I see it. In other words, this guy won’t be part of your blog world until he has a nickname. I’ll open that to competition.
Toad is obviously off limit, you bitter commenting troll! Try and pick something funny AND tasteful please.
Comment by Blaise — June 22, 2005 @ 12:42 pm
*sigh*
Isn’t everything just gorgeous when the sun shines?
And, of course, when people are new and exciting and beautiful?
Comment by anna — June 22, 2005 @ 12:45 pm
Oh Petite! I have been that person…….sneaking looks at this person I am just enamoured with – just the thrill of being seated near him was enough for me!! But yes, alone time……..bliss!
Warm wishes!
Comment by Kasey — June 22, 2005 @ 12:51 pm
A few suggestions a gathered from previous comments:
frogprince
comment box guy
Mr Comments Box
Mr CB (that by petite herself)
Comment by Blaise — June 22, 2005 @ 1:12 pm
Well, this looks very promising and at least Mr Newman has a car. In this heat you won’t have had chance to check, but have you detected any blue duffel coat tendancies?
Comment by Parkin Pig — June 22, 2005 @ 2:16 pm
No. Chalk and cheese. But he looked delicious in blue shorts, thanks for asking.
Comment by petite — June 22, 2005 @ 2:50 pm
I’m with Blaise on the nicknames, though “Mr CB” is the best.
Ah, my first comment in Petite’s blog and I’m sure it won’t be my last.
This entry just made me smile for so many reasons, I hope all goes well for you.
Comment by Shushca — June 22, 2005 @ 3:17 pm
re: your comment about the shorts: Ah, good legs, I’m such a sucker. The best part of the film Six Weeks Notice is Hugh Grant in the white tennis shorts.
I’m so happy your weekend was divine!
Comment by Coquette — June 22, 2005 @ 3:32 pm
Yep… it’s definitely Jim in Rennes. I’m sure of it…
Comment by Mancunian Lass — June 22, 2005 @ 3:43 pm
Perhaps I am just a weirdo, but a man’s legs have never done anything for me. Especially if they belong to a french wannabe hoodlum with goofy capri-length pantacourt with drawstrings keeping them up around mid-calf to show off that fabulous leg hair.
I suppose skater boys may have some attractive legs, but I get distracted by the thin-body-yet-nice-abs thing.
Comment by kim — June 22, 2005 @ 3:50 pm
Ahem. Well, I’m sure that Jim in Rennes looks very fetching indeed in blue shorts. Perhaps he’d like to send me a photo and I’ll consider my options?
Kim – did I say anything about legs?
Comment by petite — June 22, 2005 @ 3:51 pm
Mancunian Lass, do you make that assumption based on my legs? I *was* in Manchester earlier this year, but it was snowing and far too cold for leg-revealing. I was quite exceptionally drunk though, so it’s possible I suppose…
Comment by Jim in Rennes — June 22, 2005 @ 3:55 pm
Looking through wardrobe options… Damn! Blue shorts currently in wash.
Comment by Jim in Rennes — June 22, 2005 @ 3:59 pm
I would like to suggest “Mr. Rosbif”
Comment by EasyJetsetter — June 22, 2005 @ 4:17 pm
I think it’s all very beautiful – i love being in love!
Comment by Victoria — June 22, 2005 @ 4:19 pm
God, you’re a good writer. I think that’s the other great love you’ve found through this blog, and it’s definitely with you for life…
Comment by Jean — June 22, 2005 @ 4:46 pm
NOT Jim in Rennes!!!!!…….well, ‘Gary Savage’ doesn’t sound right for Petite. She’s far too cool to be partnered to a ‘Savage’. I’m shortening the odds on Andre to 1:2 on! It must be all that vin rouge circulating round his blodstream that makes his so atractive, not his knees…… we poor Rosbifs aren’t in with a whisper.
Enjoy ‘le moment’, Petite
PS What happens if I do ‘Submit’?
Comment by tony — June 22, 2005 @ 4:50 pm
Very exciting! It sounds like a very nice & relaxing time.
Comment by yayaempress — June 22, 2005 @ 5:23 pm
What frightens me about frenchmen in shorts is their usually tiny ankle-bones. Ooh, so delicate. Scary.
And all this time I thought your frogprince WAS Jim in Rennes. Oh well, I don’t mind admitting when I am wrong but WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TELL US, PETITE??
Comment by sammy — June 22, 2005 @ 9:06 pm
I need a baby.
Comment by Sarah — June 22, 2005 @ 11:15 pm
Just sleuthing around….if we are struggling with the name, how about working out the destination? Did I hear Tadpole ask, “WHEN will we ever get out of this tunnel, maman?” Watson, Petite has been boxing clever and laid a false trail for us! Tadpole ate the KIt-Kats on the RETURN journey,on the way home,not en route to the destination for the tryst! The sea could only have been ‘icy’ on the English side of Le Manche! French waters are quite defintely chaude. Ask Chirac. I have it, Watson!! Le Eurostar to Waterloo, and then off for ‘le weekend en famile’ in Brighton! This is getting damn tricky…. shall we wire Dan Brown to help us crack the rest of the code? Or would Tadpole like to treat the bloodhounds to some bits of her Kit-Kats?
Comment by Fella — June 23, 2005 @ 12:37 am
heh…the only thing better than giving into the urge is having to hold it. just. a. little. longer. ;P
Comment by brando — June 23, 2005 @ 3:43 am
lovely words
Comment by fin — June 23, 2005 @ 4:51 am
There is no “scalding sand” in Brighton, especially in June. I used to live there- it was all pebbles. The pebble beach just made me homesick for the Florida Gulf coast with REAL white sand.
Comment by delaïdo — June 23, 2005 @ 5:21 am
Do we know for sure Mr CB is a rosbeef??? Have I missed something… It’s not Rennes but it’s by the sea… hummmmmm….
Comment by Maurine au bout du monde — June 23, 2005 @ 6:21 am
Dear Jim in Rennes
Thank you for the photograph which you so thoughtfully provided in response to my comment yesterday.
I will give your application the consideration it deserves and revert to you in due course.
petite
ps nice bum
Comment by petite — June 23, 2005 @ 9:26 am
Beautifully written post. Very funny comments. This blog just gets better and better!
Comment by Zinnia Cyclamen — June 23, 2005 @ 9:36 am
Nice bum, my arse.
Comment by Jim in Rennes — June 23, 2005 @ 10:00 am
Jim in Rennes is innocent! What has he done to deserve this fate?
Comment by fella — June 23, 2005 @ 10:03 am
It could still be that Jim in shorts because
a)Rennes is a 2hr trenn ride from Paris,
b)and only 70km or 44 miles from the icy sea,
c)you can buy Kit-Kats at Montparnasse,
d)he’s got such a Cyrano-like way with words (viz. his last comment).
Nuff said.
Comment by Parkin Pig in shorts — June 23, 2005 @ 10:35 am
Hmmmm. By craftily eliminating some of the usual suspects, and following a trail of clues, I believe I know who Petite’s mystery suitor is. But I ain’t talkin’.
Petite, does it feel weird to have everyone speculating wildly over your love life?
Comment by Rachie P.I. — June 23, 2005 @ 11:10 am
Rachie – a little, yes.
On one hand, it’s fun. On the other hand, it’s not making Mr Frog very happy…
Comment by petite — June 23, 2005 @ 11:25 am
Sorry petite, you’re going to have to do a lot more to convince me it’s not Jim in Rennes.
Here is the case for the prosecution, Your Honour :
1. When petite mentioned her new man wooed her with words in the comments box, Jim in Rennes immediately sprung to mind, as he is by far the most eloquent male commenter (apologies to the others, who are sometimes quite good too.)
2. Rennes is a TGV ride away and near the icy sea.
3. Garoulous Jim went ominously quiet during the whole “splitting up with Mr Frog” saga.
4. So Mancunian Private Investigator looked back at some older comments from Jim in Rennes. Guess what ? He’s a “Sunday Dad”, he’s single (at least he was on Valentine’s day).
5. But the most damning evidence in my view is the I am Kloot concert. Petite plugged the concert as a favour to Jim around March. Obviously already exchanging emails which are too private for the comments box, because I find no evidence of the favour being asked in a public forum. Both Petite and Jim in Rennes attended the concert in May. Are we to believe they attended separately and never saw each other ? Not very likely. So, why would petite need to ask Jim for a photo of himself in shorts if she’s already seen him (ok, I’ll concede that he probably wasn’t in shorts at the concert.
Barely a week after the concert, petite announced her impending separation from Mr Frog.
6. Celebrity couples (which is what Petite and Jim are now, aren’t they ?) who issue public denials are always fibbing (Richard Gere + Cindi C., Brad and Jen, Brad and Angelina…)
I rest my case, Your Honour.
And will return to my humdrum Mancunian life.
PS I think Jim sounds lovely, and I’ve always fancied relocating to Britanny, so if it doesn’t work out between you, or if by some fat chance I am wrong, send him my way.
Comment by Mancunian Lass — June 23, 2005 @ 11:34 am
It would appear that some people (not to say stalkers!) have a lot of time on their hands.
While I have the supreme power to call up every comment ever made by a person since the site’s inception, mancunian lass has had to laboriously trawl through all my old posts…
It can only be good for my page views stats though, so be my guest!
Comment by petite — June 23, 2005 @ 11:43 am
No offence, Mancunian Lass, but I’m changing the locks on my apartment…!
Comment by Jim in Rennes — June 23, 2005 @ 11:53 am
I just googled Jim in Rennes + Petite Anglaise and it did all the trawling for me !
But I’m not stalking you, your tantalising cliffhangers of posts are just intriguing me as to who he is.
(Sorry, didn’t think about Mr Frog in all this)
Comment by Mancunian Lass — June 23, 2005 @ 11:58 am
Dear Petite,
I promise to limit our topics of conversation EXCLUSIVELY to children and bilingualism and politics and chocolate at the picnic on Saturday.
Comment by Antipo Déesse — June 23, 2005 @ 1:06 pm
that is lovely post! really evocative! I am getting addicted to petite anglaise!
Comment by trine — June 23, 2005 @ 1:09 pm
I’m content to let the story unravel by your own words, Petite. But I must admit – it’s more than a bit of fun to eavesdrop on the speculation in the comment boxes, teehee.
It’s like, I just graduated from high school… but the atmosphere’s simply transferred itself from campus grounds to expat blog. :-p (And I’m so glad!) ;-)
Comment by ludivine — June 23, 2005 @ 1:42 pm
I agree with ludivine–you hear the official story from the parties involved, but one of the best parts is discussing it afterwards!
Great blog!
Comment by Gem — June 23, 2005 @ 2:00 pm