It's Me, Sara Louise

Saturday morning started with breakfast at the pub. They advertise a ‘Full Breakfast’. I’m not sure if that means it’s supposed to be a ‘Full English‘ or a ‘Full Irish‘. Either way, we didn’t care. It’s bacon, sausage and eggs which is basically unheard of in France so we happily ate it (Even if the sausage was more Merguez like than breakfast, and the salt in the bacon made us all puffy. It was still tasty).

And the best way to work off all of that sodium is with some cardio…. shopping cardio. Luckily for us (us being Mrs. London and me, I have no idea what the other two got up to at this time and I don’t really want to) not only was Zara and H&M on the same street we were already on, but the winter sales were still in effect. Win and a win. (Actually there were lots of wins. Wins like the black velvet flats with the skulls on them, and the jewelled collar top from Zara I picked up, and the purple corduroy skinnies from H&M… it was a winning day).

Shopping finished, we met the boys for lunch at The Sushi Shop. They were giggly and giddy and generally up to no good. I swear, they’re like, twelve (and this reminds me that I forgot to tell you about their pillow fight in the hotel hallway the night before… see, they’re twelve). When the waitress asked for a name after taking our order, Mr. London quickly replied, “Bumder“.
She looked at him, making sure she got it right, “Bumder?“
“Oui, Bumder”, answered Mr. London and then spelled it out “B – U – M – D – E – R“.
“OK. Merci. Bumder” as she scribbled on her pad before walking away and The Husband and Mr. London erupted into fits of laughter. (If you watch The Inbetweeners then you’ll know why this is so funny, and if you don’t, I apologize. Or you could just watch this clip and be done with it.)

As if the whole ‘Bumder’ thing wasn’t immature enough, Tweedledee and Tweedledum dared each other to eat a big ol’ dollop of wasabi, and that’s when this happened…