A bit of history

You guys are the greatest! I love comments! I have done a tally and it seems you all like nudity, and that's okay by me. I'm just going to do a bit of self grooming before any more appointments...even the Dentist...you can never be to sure.
Well before my nudity show, Pretty and I took the gang to Normandy.

I studied WWII in school, but I never dreamed that I would actually see the beach where the soldiers landed. I thought that I would be depressed when we got there, but I didn't feel that way. I had a strange lump in my throat, but it was not of sadness, it was of pride.
I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. As I watched Aidan play on the beach I thought back to what those shores had seen. I am truly thankful for all the sacrifices that have been made so that my son could play freely in the sand. I thought of all the young soldiers that lost their lives on that beach and it made me want to just scoop him up and never let him go. But rather than scoop him up and put him in a bubble for the rest of his days I just watched him enjoy being a little boy.
So here we sit unbelievably grateful to all of those service men who made it possible for us to be here today.
However, I have a few more things to say.
Many times in my daily life in Paris as a "La Americana" I feel so apologetic for not speaking French, for not following all of the "social" rules, for having loud children, for smiling when no one smiles back the lists goes on and on. After this trip I feel different.
Normandy actually likes Americans. They are friendly and even smile showing teeth.
Nonetheless, while we were driving through the most picture perfect town we pulled over to take a picture of a church that was centuries old and a bit of my spiteful self shown brightly through the newly found grateful Peggy.
A cranky lady showed Brandon just how unhappy she was with him for pulling over on the small street. On a normal occasion I would have felt a jittery feeling inside and tried to get out of there as quickly as possible (very squirrel like). Not this time.
The family has a new saying and it goes a little something like this...
"Do you speak German (Parle vous Allemande?)"
No.
You're welcome.
We don't actually say this out loud, it's really just a silent mantra in our head when people aren't being very sweet.
Makes me feel better when the little old ladies are running me over and glaring at my children.