The Princeling is three today, it doesn't seem five minutes since he was the Most Beautiful Not-a-Wailing-Orange in the maternity ward He's still a very handsome fellow and, following a brief and sporadic spell of being rather more two-year-old goblin than elf, a very lovely character too.
So to mark the occasion, some pictures from an outing we made a couple of weeks ago.
It was a rare day of sunshine among a lot of rainy and cold ones, and we set off around the big lake in Lamballe.
There were things to climb on,
and it was so warm, we spread plastic bags on the rather soggy picnic benches and table,
and bread and Nutella, among other things, were consumed,
Mostly by Ilan.
Then we repaired to the cafe in the square.
A spoonful of the froth from his mother's coffee, followed by the speculoos biscuit; he is evidently being raised as un vrai français.* In fact, despite being quite as accustomed to functioning in French herself, Iso's always been very good about speaking in English to him, even curbing her execrable if unwitting Franglais to make sure she does so properly. However, as he's generally surrounded by French otherwise, at home, with his dad's family and with his nounou, his childminder, he's been inclined to keep his counsel and not to commit himself too much in either language until recently. Now though, while most of the words were coming out French, he was obviously quite at ease with us in English and understands and responds happily.
(Thinks: this one's not quite such a pushover but I think I can probably get around him...)
The cafe turned out to be next to a rather charming toyshop containing nice old-fashioned things made of wood and cloth. It was closed for lunch but was clearly an irresistible draw, but we were obliged to be gone, so we finished our coffee and went on our way, leaving them to it.
It was a lovely outing and a welcome bit of sunshine, in more ways than one.
Happy Birthday Princeling!
*Yes, I know speculoos are Belgian.