It's Me, Sara Louise

{Stade Mayol}

“So RCT have a home game on Thursday…” 

That was the text I got from Mrs. London talking about All Saints Day (the 1st of November). All Saints day is a holiday here in France, and what better way to spend a day off than by watching Mr. London do his thing (RCT is Toulon by the way).

It should have been so easy… leave The LPV at 9a.m. for an 11a.m. arrival at Chez London, and then go for a nice long lunch before the 2:30p.m. kick off (Mrs. London and I are all about our long lunches).

Easy peasy pudding pie, right? Wrong. Not in The LPV. In The LPV it’s called, S.N.A.F.U.

Our car wouldn’t start. THE CAR WOULDN’T START!!! What kind of malarky is that?! We fiddled with it, and fiddled with it, but it just wouldn’t turn over (fiddling is a very technical, mechanical term obviously).

By 10a.m. we gave up on the car, but not on our day. The Husband started trying to track down Papa and Brother-in-Law. Not so easy since they were both deep in the forest hunting wild boar (of course they were). But eventually Brother-in-Law’s phone picked up the signal and we were saved, we could take his car for the day.

By 11:30, we were finally on our way and I kissed my long lunch with Mrs. London goodbye. It was OK though, we would go out for a nice dinner with Mr. & Mrs. London after the match before heading back to The LPV. After all, we had Brother-in-Law’s car, we couldn’t very well spend the night in Toulon. I had even left the overnight bag I had packed behind because of course we would be coming back that night. (This is what I like to call, foreshadowing.)

We pulled into Chez London at 1:30, dropped off Brother-in-Law’s car, hopped in Mrs. London’s shiny new car, and somehow made it into our seats at Stade Mayo with five minutes to spare. The fact that Mrs. London’s shiny new car happens to also be teeny tiny helped finding a parking spot that much easier.

{The car might be teeny tiny, but The Husband isn’t}

{free wine is the best wine}

When Mr. London arrived at the reception, Mrs. London and I made the mistake of letting him and The Husband out of our sight for a couple of minutes (this is never a good idea). We found them in a corner, plotting.

Mrs. London: We’re going out to dinner and then they need to head off because they need to get back with the car.

Mr. London: No, we’re going to So & So’s house for drinks and pizza, they’re spending the night with us, and then tomorrow we’re going back to their house for the weekend.

Hold up. How did that happen? They had been left along for all of three minutes.

Apparently in that three minutes, Mr. London called Brother-in-Law and asked if we needed to bring the car back that night, Brother-in-Law said no, and that was all Mr. London needed to hear to twist The Husband’s arm (Mr. London twists The Husband’s arm quite a bit).

It all turned out fine in the end… I got to spend time with Mrs. London, go to a pizza party, and see a video of one of the players with his ear only hanging on by a thread. It was gross.

bisou

P.S. Coming up next… the weekend.