Yesterday, as we were coming back to their house (after I ordered them to leave the computer store NOW because I can't stand watching people playing video games), C. turned to me.
She said, "Are you staying in Paris for one year or two years?"
I stopped. Hmm. She probably wants a babysitter that will let them stay and play "Grand Theft Auto" for hours on those little promo Xboxes that are attached to the wall, rather than the 15 minutes I grudgingly gave them before growing desperate to escape the land of plastic and price tags.
"We don't know. It depends on the position Dr. B gets."
"Oh. I hope you stay for two because I don't want you to leave." She kisses my cheek as she runs off to start her piano practice.
It's the little things. :)