I suppose I can blame Brother-in-Law.
After all, it was his fault that we ended up spending the night in Toulon when he told Mr. London that there was no rush in us bringing his car back (and I missed a night of desperately needed beauty sleep) and it was his Halloween party that was the reason The Londons were coming back to Le Petit Village with us (I’m not really complaining, I love all the high jinx, I swear, but heaven knows I’m getting a tad too old for it all).
So yes, I blame Brother-in-Law.
But thankfully, The Londons decided to come to Le Petit Village on Saturday morning, and not follow us home on Friday. I really needed a nap, a little time to run around like a headless chicken, and a good night sleep. Check, check, and check. And their timing couldn’t have been more perfect, they arrived right before lunch with just enough time to zip down to Banon to my beloved bar au vin.
While we were there I spotted something odd… a ‘girly’ wine label. You see, France takes their wine pretty seriously and it’s rare to find ‘critter’ and fancy fun labels on wine, so when I spotted the bottle of Pink Frog Sparkling Rosé I was intrigued. It looked so odd and foreign stocked next to the Chateau Blah Blah Blahs and the Domaine de la Blah, that of course I had to try it.
What a bad idea. It was like drinking fizzy, sweet, bubble gum. Now, if you happen to like fizzy, sweet, bubblegum, then by all means, have at it, but my teeth still hurt thinking about it (that being said, eighteen year old me would have LOVED the stuff).
Bellies full and sweet toothed, we drove home in a hurry… Mr. London and The Husband had a date with Brother-in-Law and a wild boar. They were going hunting for the afternoon, which meant that Mrs. London and I were free to curl up on the couch, watch The Inbetweeners (the English one, not the American… the American version freaks me out a bit) and play around on Pinterest… pretty much the perfect Saturday afternoon if you ask me.
And it was perfect, until the boys arrived home wet and muddy disrupting our tranquil space, shouting that they were hungry (Really, why are they always so loud and dirty and hungry all the time?) with Brother-in-Law in tow (shouldn’t he have been at home preparing for his Halloween party?). And if that wasn’t enough, Gatz called to say that his car was broken down and he needed a lift. So then The Husband and Brother-in-Law went to collect him but instead of bringing him home, they brought him back to ours which meant he was stuck with us, car-less.
With The Husband, Mr. London, Gatz, and Brother-in-Law camped out in my living room, Mrs. London’s and my tranquil space had been well and truly compromised. But only for a couple of hours, because in a couple hours we would be putting our costumes on and going to Brother-in-Law’s Halloween party, and that my dears, is coming up next…