Phew! La Fille's cross-Channel birthday bonanza is over. The Paris party was smaller than the London one - it was the school holidays and most of her friends were away - but still fun. The pinata was a huge success as is, I imagine, any game that lets toddlers loose with a wooden stick and permission to hit something.
There was a brief moment when I felt like snatching the stick and whacking one of the French mums when I overheard her being sniffy about my home-made Pink Milk Flans (thank you Charlie & Lola). She said: "How very English." I said to her: "There's jelly later." The French just don't get jelly. They don't get Pass the Parcel or Musical Statues either, I discovered. So I had my revenge and made them join in jigging to The Grand Old Duke of York: how very English.
I knew La Fille had been watching too much Charlie & Lola when she started dancing around the cake singing: "Lucky, LUCKY me. Lucky, LUCKY me." She was indeed very lucky and ended up having two and a half parties as I took a chocolate cake into the nursery on her actual birthday and they went through the whole Joyeuse Anniversaire routine again. I told La Fille she was like the Queen, having two celebrations; one actual birthday and one state birthday. I thought: "She has no idea what I am talking about." But she ran into her sister's room, grabbed a plastic tiara-style hair clip La Belle Belle-Fille keeps next to the silver stetson (don't ask) stuck it on her head and charged around singing "Look, look. Lucky, lucky me." So much for her being a child of La Republique.
As she left party the French mum who had turned her nose up at my 'English' food asked: "Can I take one of these?" She was brandishing a Pink Milk Flan. How very French, I thought.
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