Today is Father's Day, in both the U.S. and France, and the girls have saved up their gifts for today, so Anthony only gets one Father's Day, as compared to my five Mother's Days. I don't know, maybe I'm biased, but that seems about the right ratio to me.
Gigi has a huge painting and card that she made for her Daddy, and Pippa has a school-made pinwheel and a poem. The poem is probably my favorite part of it, because her teacher saw her first draft and made her write another one. The first draft is the best draft, however; it's priceless. Here it is, with spelling corrected:
Papa,tu es mon chat. Daddy, you are my cat.
Tu est plus beau que les rats. You are more handsome than the rats.
Tu aime les apareillesphoto de moi You like my cameras
dans un village. in a village.
Les africains son't moin jolis que toi, The Africans are less good-looking than you,
Papa. Daddy.
This poem is not so much racist as continentalist. I mean, the Africans in question could easily be Caucasian South Africans; she never specifies. And in reality, it's less continentalist than it is soundist. She chose all the words because of the "aaah" sound in them when pronounced in French (Africain, apareille, village, chat, rat).
The revised version encouraged by her teacher is more "politically correct" and highly sanitized. There are no Africans, and no rats. Where's the artistry in that?
Speaking of artistry, as part of his official fathering duties, Anthony has introduced the girls to Star Wars. Neither of them are terribly impressed. After watching about an hour of it, we put it away for days, and neither girl even asks to see the rest. Finally, they watch the rest this weekend, and Gigi is mildly enthusiastic about the ending. But it takes at least twice as long to watch it as it should, because they make us stop every couple minutes to answer questions: Why is Darth Vader so mean? Why don't they evacuate the planet before it gets blown up? How does the light saber work? What, exactly, is the force, and how can a dead Obi-Wan Kenobi still be talking to Luke? Why is a Wookie so hairy? It's exhausting. Gigi chooses to play with a friend rather than watch The Empire Strikes Back, and Pippa watches half of it, then has nightmares. (Meanwhile, I show them one of my favorite films, Strictly Ballroom, and they are gaga over it -- jumping, cheering, laughing, and crying through the movie, then rehashing it endlessly. Growing up with three brothers, Anthony is still amazed to be surrounded by so much girliness.)
I get Anthony a shirt for Father's Day, which I buy when I am out shopping alone. I offer the girls to give it from them as well, but they are both convinced I have chosen badly and that he will hate it. It is part of my lifelong campaign to make Anthony's wardrobe more colorful and less full of stripes, since I consider the men's clothing section (endless rows of stripes and plaids in shades of blue, brown, gray, and dark green) to be mind-numblingly boring. Anthony is on the fence about whether he can be convinced to wear it, or whether I should return it.
So: a question about the questionable shirt. Those of you with opinions (and/or taste), please feel free to weigh in. Is this great? Gaudy? God-awful? Don't be afraid to comment....
And for the pièce de résistence of the day, I have found not one but two excellent taco option in Paris. One is a small restaurant in the 3rd, called Candelaria, which serves the best tacos in the city/country, according to a Californian who is a 10-year resident of Paris. However, if the weather had been nicer yesterday, I would have taken everybody to the Cantine California food truck, one of two food trucks in Paris, which apparently serves almost-as-good tacos and has the advantage of being served from a truck, just the way our family likes 'em. But not on Sundays. Since the weather did not cooperate on Saturday, we go today to Candelaria; this put is in a bit of time-bind since we need to be across town by 2pm, the restaurant does not open till 12:30, and tacos take approximately 15 times longer to prepare in Paris than in California (i.e. 2 minutes in SF, 30 minutes here). They do taste good, though, and not too far off of a real Mexican or Cal-Mex taco.
So one questionable shirt, questionable poem, and questionably authentic taco experience later, Anthony has officially been celebrated for being an excellent dad. So, just to clarify the title of this posting: It is the Day that is questionable, not the Father.
Gigi has a huge painting and card that she made for her Daddy, and Pippa has a school-made pinwheel and a poem. The poem is probably my favorite part of it, because her teacher saw her first draft and made her write another one. The first draft is the best draft, however; it's priceless. Here it is, with spelling corrected:
Papa,tu es mon chat. Daddy, you are my cat.
Tu est plus beau que les rats. You are more handsome than the rats.
Tu aime les apareillesphoto de moi You like my cameras
dans un village. in a village.
Les africains son't moin jolis que toi, The Africans are less good-looking than you,
Papa. Daddy.
This poem is not so much racist as continentalist. I mean, the Africans in question could easily be Caucasian South Africans; she never specifies. And in reality, it's less continentalist than it is soundist. She chose all the words because of the "aaah" sound in them when pronounced in French (Africain, apareille, village, chat, rat).
The revised version encouraged by her teacher is more "politically correct" and highly sanitized. There are no Africans, and no rats. Where's the artistry in that?
Speaking of artistry, as part of his official fathering duties, Anthony has introduced the girls to Star Wars. Neither of them are terribly impressed. After watching about an hour of it, we put it away for days, and neither girl even asks to see the rest. Finally, they watch the rest this weekend, and Gigi is mildly enthusiastic about the ending. But it takes at least twice as long to watch it as it should, because they make us stop every couple minutes to answer questions: Why is Darth Vader so mean? Why don't they evacuate the planet before it gets blown up? How does the light saber work? What, exactly, is the force, and how can a dead Obi-Wan Kenobi still be talking to Luke? Why is a Wookie so hairy? It's exhausting. Gigi chooses to play with a friend rather than watch The Empire Strikes Back, and Pippa watches half of it, then has nightmares. (Meanwhile, I show them one of my favorite films, Strictly Ballroom, and they are gaga over it -- jumping, cheering, laughing, and crying through the movie, then rehashing it endlessly. Growing up with three brothers, Anthony is still amazed to be surrounded by so much girliness.)
I get Anthony a shirt for Father's Day, which I buy when I am out shopping alone. I offer the girls to give it from them as well, but they are both convinced I have chosen badly and that he will hate it. It is part of my lifelong campaign to make Anthony's wardrobe more colorful and less full of stripes, since I consider the men's clothing section (endless rows of stripes and plaids in shades of blue, brown, gray, and dark green) to be mind-numblingly boring. Anthony is on the fence about whether he can be convinced to wear it, or whether I should return it.
So: a question about the questionable shirt. Those of you with opinions (and/or taste), please feel free to weigh in. Is this great? Gaudy? God-awful? Don't be afraid to comment....
And for the pièce de résistence of the day, I have found not one but two excellent taco option in Paris. One is a small restaurant in the 3rd, called Candelaria, which serves the best tacos in the city/country, according to a Californian who is a 10-year resident of Paris. However, if the weather had been nicer yesterday, I would have taken everybody to the Cantine California food truck, one of two food trucks in Paris, which apparently serves almost-as-good tacos and has the advantage of being served from a truck, just the way our family likes 'em. But not on Sundays. Since the weather did not cooperate on Saturday, we go today to Candelaria; this put is in a bit of time-bind since we need to be across town by 2pm, the restaurant does not open till 12:30, and tacos take approximately 15 times longer to prepare in Paris than in California (i.e. 2 minutes in SF, 30 minutes here). They do taste good, though, and not too far off of a real Mexican or Cal-Mex taco.
So one questionable shirt, questionable poem, and questionably authentic taco experience later, Anthony has officially been celebrated for being an excellent dad. So, just to clarify the title of this posting: It is the Day that is questionable, not the Father.
1 comment:
I think A's shirt is great for the right kind of function - an art gallery opening/wine tasting/fun nightclub or happy hour event. I like it! Give him a pair of dark skinny jeans and fun shoes and he's ready to go!
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