Thanksgiving 2016 took us to Ottawa for a visit with our daughter Janice and her family.
A sixteen pound turkey, a picturesque hike through Gatineau Park, and a terrifying outing to a spooky Halloween store were just a few of the highlights of our four days in the nation's capital.
Despite the busy weekend, I still made some time for my French study thanks to a little game I played with granddaughter Isla.
"How do you say fingers in French, Isla?" I asked.
"That's easy....les doigts. Your turn Papa. How do you say feet?"
"Les pieds," I answered. "OK, try this one. How do you say tree in French?"
"Arbre," Isla answered spontaneously.
"How about a magic tree, Papa?" she shot back.
As I fumbled for the word magic, Isla screamed her answer, "Arbre-cadabra."
We both laughed at her creative answer and I marveled at her innate ability to combine two languages simultaneously.
"Here's one," I asked. "How do you say star in French?"
"You say toile," Isla responded.
"You mean etoile," I corrected.
"No, it's toile, toile, toile."
Somehow saying it three times makes it right in the eyes of a five year old.
"OK," I agreed. "Toile it is."
I realize that Isla's French prowess is only as good as her teacher, that her learning of the language is done entirely by ear. No worries about the correct use of tenses or even spelling, her speech is the product of listening and repeating, the ideal way to learn a language."
Three year old Vivian interrupted our banter with sad news about a favourite toy.
"I breaked it. There is it."
I could only smile as I snapped a piece of her plastic car back in place.
"There you go, Vivi, It's as good as new."
Vivian's use of the English language is developing slowly and her grammar errors remind me of my struggles to recapture my command of the French language.
As we finished our word game, I thanked Isla for her help with my homework.
"Papa, you don't have homework, do you? You're too old to going to school?
"Actually, Isla, I go to school every Saturday to learn French, just like you."
Her jaw dropped as she looked at me incredulously.
"Well, Papa, if you're in school, what grade are you in? I know you can't be in le Jardin like me."
"No, I'm not in senior kindergarten.. Actually I'm in Grade 4 now," I answered with a straight face.
She seemed pleased with both my answer and her sudden realization that we're both in this French thing together.
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