Kitten for Chloe. The English in France.
“Bonjour Madame,” said Chloe, aged 6.
“Bonjour Chloe,” I replied … and she planted a couple of frozen little bisous on my cheeks, as French childhood good manners dictate.
“Papa says that when we get a house of our own he will buy me a kitten,” she announced (but in French, of course).
“That will be nice for you, ” I said, “what will you call it?”
She stuck a finger in her mouth and stared at her feet.
“How do you say chaton in English?” she asked.
“Kitten,” I told her, a chaton is a kitten.”
“Keetenne !” she exclaimed, “that is a really good name, “I shall call it Keetenne !”