Photo: Artwork for sale in my friend’s shop "Aussandon," in Aubagne.
My Mother told me two things when she met French husband:
1) The way to that man’s heart is through his stomach, bake cookies!
2) He loves adventure, so don’t be a wuss.
I took cookies out of my Mother’s freezer and told French husband that I made them. He adored me more for the cookies I didn’t bake.
…and when my (not yet,) French husband and my then 14 year old brother, went swimming in the canal I followed. Next to the canal there was a tall tree with a long dangling rope. They climbed the tree, grabbed the rope and swang out, roped-dived into the canal. My Mother said, "Corey, you gotta do it!"
The easy part was climbing the tree. I grabbed the rope, I took a deep breath and pushed out. The rope burned my hands and upper torso, as I slipped down, down, down… not even close to the canal, but into the muddy embankment. POW! SPLAT! Mud in mouth and swimsuit top torn off.
Embarrassed I looked at him… He was smiling ear to ear. Amongst other things he was proud of me that was certain.
"Me Tarzan You Jane!" French husband seem to say when he kissed me. As my Mother made frantic sign language for me to cover up my nude torso.
Though I smiled mischievously, knowing that this too was a way to that man’s heart.
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