Léonie has a best mate. Although she doesn’t know he is her best mate. Only we grown-ups know that Léonie and Rémi are best mates. We have made this assumption because Rémi’s parents and L’Homme and I get along rather well and also because Léonie and Rémi were born just three weeks apart. So of course the babies will be chummy chums – OF COURSE they will, and it will make going on holiday together in the years to come so much easier. Léonie and Rémi however, are doing their best to scupper this potentially sweet relationship, Rémi by vomiting at Léonie’s feet, and Léonie through physical torture. They had a bath together last night and we parents crowded around them, cameras in hand, smiling and cooing “how lovely they are”, “qu’est ce qu’ils sont mignons”. And then Rémi started frowning. And then gurning. Really gurning. Impressive, competition-winning gurning. And then he burst into tears. “Oh come on Rémi” cooed his maman, “What’s wrong? Look at Léonie playing! Here’s a toy!” and we tried to make him look as cheerful as Léonie. But Rémi was unconsolable and it was only when we looked a bit closer that we saw Léonie had rammed her foot into Rémi’s groin, crushing his little “zizi” and thus inflicting much pain upon her little friend. We rearranged their legs and feet and all was well in the world, until Léonie shifted back into her original position and quite happily continued to squish Rémi’s bits to kingdom come. And then she turned around to the camera and did a typical French raspberry sound with her lips which roughly translated means “Am I bovvered?”.
As Rémi’s papa said “Si jeune et déjà casse-couille”. Translation : “So young and already breaking balls”. I should hope so. Like mother, like daughter.