Requests being answered

So, I’ve gotten requests recently for blog topics, so I’ll try to tackle two, but since it's long I'm breaking it into two posts. Hope this isn't completely offensive to anyone.

First, I’ve been requested to talk more about my host family. They’re a lively bunch, as one would expect with four (mostly) teenaged children. I say mostly because chère Apolline is still only 9. Surprisingly, I have quite interesting conversations with her sometimes because my host family has had host students pretty much every year since she was a baby, so she’s really used to speaking very clearly to foreigners. Next up is Solène, who is 13, aspires to be an actress, and enjoys singing like her life is an opera. She does the Abigail Breslin dance from Little Miss Sunshine with a great deal of talent. I also learned this week that she is literally half my weight. I don’t really remember very well, but I’m fairly sure that I weighed more than 32 kilos when I was in middle school. Seriously? These kids need to eat more at dinner.

Moving up the line, there’s Ferréol, the only boy in the bunch. Apparently he’s named after a saint who helped bring Christianity/Catholicism to this region in France or something like that, and it’s a rare name even for the French. Personally, I love it, and if I ever feel like torturing one of my children I might give him this name. Ferréol is 15, plays soccer, and texts at the dinner table. He spends a solid portion of his life joining groups and becoming a fan of things on facebook. In addition, he apparently desperately wants to be American but is the biggest French stereotype I’ve ever met. Finally, there is Sigolène, the oldest at 17. She dances (ballet), is in her last year in high school, and seems utterly stressed about her future life. I don’t blame her; I wasn’t much better at her age. She makes our salad dressing (she’s the “expert”) and the other night made some very masterful crepes for our dessert. She is also the only child who hasn’t thrown a temper tantrum at the dinner table thus far (we’ve been locked in the kitchen twice by Apolline, and the others aren’t much better).

My parents are lovely. My dad is quite the character and very intelligent; we’ve had quite a few quiz nights at dinner where he grills his kids on things like world capitals, French history, and what vegetables are in the same family. My mom is wonderful but generally stressed right now, as her elections are coming up and apparently the most recent polls weren’t so good. Don’t ask me what she’s running for; it’s some position in the regional government but I haven’t managed to figure out exactly what yet. She is an excellent driver, loves chatting to everyone she runs into on the streets, and is not at dinner very often because she’s gone at political meetings.

There's a dog, too: Zoé. She is very VERY peppy and generally lives like a queen. Sigolène made the observation that when she begs you for food she looks like Puss in Boots from Shrek 2.

The picture they sent to me of them (trust me, nothing I take would look better than this):