Much have I written about my erstwhile dragoness mother-in-law, the infamous belle mere Madame Borgia and her singleminded obsession to liberate the known world from the unseen horrors of meat and mirrors! Perhaps I could have elaborated even further if Charming Calvin hadn't put down his foot on the entire dastardly scheme. After all, surely our blue-eyed Borgia boy wouldn't like to have his own bonne maman gain such horrific notoriety online!
And perhaps I shouldn't talk ill about Madame Borgia since she has been feeling rather blue after the recent tragic loss of her elder son. So deep in her inconsolable despondency that her other son, Calvin, felt himself obliged to suggest some form of lighthearted entertainment to reanimate her pensive spirits.
It should surprise no one that it was Calvin who finally, lamentably stumbled upon the idea of travel.
Quelle folie!
Though I had earlier floated the novel idea of Madame Borgia enlisting in our regular travelling troupe, I had expected a far more familiar locale for her; at least somewhere that hints of the Orient perhaps? Certainly not our proposed destination for the next journey which is deep in the heart of Occidental Europe - Paris. After all it was high time my mother had her chance to do the Grand Tour so to speak.
Paul : Mon dieu! What is belle mere to do in Paris!
Calvin : Take a walk? Buy some baguettes?
Paul : Quoi? Le madame dislikes art galleries, museums and boutiques!
Calvin : I'm sure she will grow to love it.
Paul : Voyons. What if she - like my bonne maman - only seeks out nourriture chinoise?
Calvin : Then we shall have délicieux le riz cantonais !
Paul : Oh la vache!
Then again since Calvin frequently fancies himself capped with a black beret, twirling a slim mustache while sipping his un café at a chic French cafe, perhaps Madame Borgia has comparable dreams of strolling through the sun-dappled cobbled streets of Montmartre. Dreams of being the next Deneuve perhaps?
So a gay couple with both their distinctly dissimilar mamans on a trip to Paris. Surely the plot for a rollicking French comedy, non?
And perhaps I shouldn't talk ill about Madame Borgia since she has been feeling rather blue after the recent tragic loss of her elder son. So deep in her inconsolable despondency that her other son, Calvin, felt himself obliged to suggest some form of lighthearted entertainment to reanimate her pensive spirits.
 |
| Pardon, Maman. |
It should surprise no one that it was Calvin who finally, lamentably stumbled upon the idea of travel.
Quelle folie!
Though I had earlier floated the novel idea of Madame Borgia enlisting in our regular travelling troupe, I had expected a far more familiar locale for her; at least somewhere that hints of the Orient perhaps? Certainly not our proposed destination for the next journey which is deep in the heart of Occidental Europe - Paris. After all it was high time my mother had her chance to do the Grand Tour so to speak.
Paul : Mon dieu! What is belle mere to do in Paris!
Calvin : Take a walk? Buy some baguettes?
Paul : Quoi? Le madame dislikes art galleries, museums and boutiques!
Calvin : I'm sure she will grow to love it.
Paul : Voyons. What if she - like my bonne maman - only seeks out nourriture chinoise?
Calvin : Then we shall have délicieux le riz cantonais !
Paul : Oh la vache!
Then again since Calvin frequently fancies himself capped with a black beret, twirling a slim mustache while sipping his un café at a chic French cafe, perhaps Madame Borgia has comparable dreams of strolling through the sun-dappled cobbled streets of Montmartre. Dreams of being the next Deneuve perhaps?
So a gay couple with both their distinctly dissimilar mamans on a trip to Paris. Surely the plot for a rollicking French comedy, non?
2 comments:
avoir un beau voyage to you both
Not so fast of course, zerachiel :P
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