Thursday, 13 December 2012

Papi Mike's Pellier

Waiting for the tram

Last summer the grandspoilers took the mini-beasts on a day trip to our local metropolis, Montpellier. Later that evening in a mother-daughter chat...

Me: So, you went to Montpellier today?
Matilda: It's not your Pellier it's Papi Mike's Pellier.

Obviously the kind of amusing anecdote that I will be boring her with when she's 27 and definitely blogworthy (we don't have high standards around these blogparts) but somehow I never got round to it.

Yesterday the grandspoilers took us all to Montpellier to see the Christmas decorations. The previous morning in a mother-daughter chat...

Me: Papi and Nana are taking us to Montpellier tomorrow.
Matilda: Are we going to your Pellier or Papi Mike's Pellier?

I think it is due to the same impeccable logic that Owen calls Matilda, Tilda.

Anyway, a grand day was had by all.

And in other fun with words news, I realised recently that when Owen refers to his "bummy" he is not in fact talking about his bottom, which he very correctly calls a bottom, but his tummy. As in "Hurt my bottom, hurt my bummy, need do poo".

Wearing his "Princess gloves"

Wearing his pyjamas

1 comment:

  1. I love Owen's wardrobe!
    And your dad is quite an important person if a city is named after him;)


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