Malanga Girl had a birthday last Friday. Festivities lasted for approximately 5 days since the day before her birthday kicked off a holiday weekend here in France. From Thursday-Sunday, Malanga Girl told us adults where we'd be going and what we would be doing. She managed to cram in a second visit to the Musee D'Orsay (her favorite because of the ballerinas), another ride on the Bato Bus up and down the Seine, visits to the zoo, the Opera, the Eiffel Tower and the Parc George Bressens. She rode a pony at this last venue, and watched a guignol (marionette) performance as well. Cupcakes and many scoops of ice cream were eaten over the weekend as well.
Monday brought the long-awaited Barbie cake to school. I did not make this, nor do I have any idea how I would even begin to construct such a thing. But in less than five minutes, it was disassembled for small mouths after a trilingual chanting of "Happy Birthday." (Note that I was terrified Barbie's face would melt or her hair would catch on fire from the candles, so keep this in mind if you feel adventurous enough to attempt making your own Barbie cake someday.)
Oh Malanga Girl, you are so big now. You even make up your own poems in French. "Je m'appelle une cocinelle," you said to me one day recently. My growing ladybug. Happy birthday! Felicidades! Joyeux Anniversaire!
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