First, some housecleaning duties. Melinda and Chloe are back from Bordeaux, having returned to the land of the zombies this afternoon. Zombie-Ella was pajama-clad and under a blanket watching a TV show on my laptop when they returned. Zombie-Andy had showered, shaved and was fully dressed when they arrived, just too exhausted from the effort to greet them at the door. So, yes, the family is reunited but Ella and I aren’t fully ourselves yet. Ella will spend another day home tomorrow. It somehow seems unfair to send her in for an 8 hour school day in another language when she’s not feeling 100%.

Regarding the blog title and photo today, I’m referencing a king’s cake, part of fun French ritual in January we are learning about. If the concept is new to you, as it was to me, take a minute to review this very informative Wikipedia entry. It’s all pretty fun and the entry seems to have it spot-on, or it was written by an American like me who is trying to figure it all out. My favorite part about the whole ritual is having the youngest person sit under the table and tell who gets each slice of cake when its sliced. Perhaps that’s because growing up I was the youngest in my family and wish I could have had such a power.

Melinda picked up a king’s cake from our favorite bakery tonight and was surprised to find it came with a crown and a bottle of hard cider. She and I each had a small slice of cake but the fève remains hidden. We should have had Ella under the table dictating how the cut slices were to be distributed, but she was in her room not wanting dessert (THAT’S how sick she is). And Chloe missed dinner for babysitting.