You’d think Manon’s aim might be a little better than this, given Laurent’s point-blank status. Clearly, that snowball is going to miss him. Instead, though, I am attributing this to Laurent’s super-fast fatherly reflexes, his left hand deftly coming up to knock Manon’s throwing arm off-target. We fathers do need to stick together, hence the credit going to Laurent (besides, Manon needs an excuse).

This photo was taken at lunchtime today during a break from the gang’s final day of skiing. Melinda and Ella departed early, heading back to Les Carroz to meet up with me. That left Chloe, Manon, Frédérique and Laurent to fend for themselves, and the fending involved a snowball fight. From what I’ve gathered, Laurent was a common target throughout the week and rarely, if ever, retaliated. There is another photo from a few days ago in which he is sitting quietly eating his lunch, snowballs raining down upon him. So in paragraph one above I imply he has something akin to black belt status. And in this paragraph I am suggesting he has the patience and concentration of a Shaolin monk.

Switching gears, I’m writing inside the apartment an hour or so before our last dinner in Les Carroz. Manon and Frédérique are folding sheets. Laurent and Melinda are transferring photos from the Boudeau’s camera to Melinda’s computer so we can have them for our family archive. Ella is packing and Chloe is taking a shower. It’s that melancholic time in which you know your vacation is just about over. Before you is the packing and cleaning, and, hopefully, one more little blast of vacation fun, a bonus, if you’ve planned well.

Our bonus begins shortly with the apéritif, courtesy of Laurent. It involves saucisson and red wine. Ah…