"Mothers meeting, children invited,
Fathers can come if they don`t get excited"!
On Saturday mornings we love to go the café-bar in our nearest town for a café and a warm croissant amande and then sit and watch the same ritual, week after week. It has almost become a sport.
Tucked away in a huddle in the corner of the café are a group of wonderfully chic old ladies who meet, without fail, every Saturday to gossip. They lurch between hysterical laughter, gasps of disgust and, of course, the inevitable "ooooh la la`s".
Occasionally one of the men sitting at the bar, who seem even older, will be goaded by his friends or feel confident enough to make his way over to the group to charm the ladies. I love to watch the ritual; it is as if they are all still sixteen!
Every time without fail one particular monsieur will be lured into the group, be verbally lashed at one end and then spat out at the other licking his wounds - and much to the amusement of everyone in the café watching them.
It reminds me of gladiators entering the lion pit !
Enough of me reminiscing of the goings on at the local café; off to bed now ready for an early start tomorrow morning at the first of three brocantes!