A 'hon hon hon' night!
A few weeks ago, I told Brigitte (host mom) that I wouldn't need dinner this past Monday, because I had tickets to the ballet, but stupid me got the dates wrong, and it turned out that I was not only event-less that night, but dinner-less as well. I came home with a bad baguette in tow (sadly the Chinese bakery around the corner -the only one ope n on Mondays- have mastered all but the bread), and moped in my room with a ventre gr ondant (grumbling stomach) until, suddenly, like an angel from the heavens, my host mom peeks her head in (" Allo Ceen-tee-ah! ") and asks me why I'm not at the ballet. It was embarassing enough to have to explain I got the dates wrong, but definitely worse as she caught me mid-bite of my 2-foot-long bread baby. Anyway, pride set aside, I told her about my mix-up, and she said, " C'est pas grave (It's not serious)" and something along the lines of dinner being different but she had enough portions, etc. Sooo it turn...