I studied French through my junior high years all the way up until my second year of university. I spent the better part of a summer on an exchange program which landed me in Northern France with a family for a month when I was a teen. I should be able to speak French. And usually, I can. Or enough that I don’t look like a complete fool. But complete fool I have been since I arrived in Paris. So now, as my week in between classes and my mother’s visit begins, I am taking this part of my study more seriously. I’ve been taking lessons with a lovely lady named Marjorie, sitting in a cafe, sipping coffee, getting scolded for making up words in French. I’ve been forcing myself to go outside of my comfort zone in the streets of Paris, trying to converse even when I know how foolish I sound. It’s hard, self-depricating work.
So this video came along at just the right frustrating moment for me. It’s back to basics and a brilliant little story about the adventure. How adorable. Le sigh.