Nope. Not talking about the awesome "i'm at a summer camp and am going to initiate a massive food fight where we all jump in the lake afterward."
I'm talking about the fact that Charlotte and Martin fought over the effing SIX LAST FRENCH FRIES I made for dinner last night. With scrambled eggs as a side dish, mind you, because there's no food left in this house and shopping desperately needs to be done.
To make matters more comical, Martin CRIED over this. Not to play into stereotypes or anything, but NO WONDER Frenchmen are seen as effeminate! Good. GRACIOUS.
These kids fight over food like they've never seen it before and they live in the Golden Triangle of the Yvelines, land of the more-than-plenty.
Let's top this all off with the fact their mother's flight was delayed 4 hours, and then it took her 2.5 hours on the road to get from CDG to Saint-Germain-en-Laye, because apparently the French, despite being around snow, still don't know how the hell to drive in it. So instead of arriving around 1 p.m. as expected, she got home at near 6:30. FML.
Somebody bring me some wine. STAT.