Say what?

OK, we’re in my English-speaking country, everyone’s speaking English to Puce and around Puce - apart from one person. 

So why oh why is her French vocabulary growing at a daily rate? 

As she joyfully declares gloves to be gants and her foot a pied, I find myself doing what I vowed I wouldn’t and leaping in to shout GLOVES!! FOOT!! almost as if I’m contradicting her father.

What am I scared of?  I have visions of her becoming one of those almost-bilingual children that I’ve heard about, who understand one of the two languages, but refuse to speak it. 

Or maybe this is just a stage?  Watch this space…