Oui, oui, it is summer. The flies are fat and delicieux. The other grenouilles of Caroline screeeee et pop et crique in the dusk. It is a busy time. Etienne once again has received vegetables for play and food from the farm of Deux Poussins. These mesdames agricoles save fruits and vegetables with bizarre shapes for Etienne, and he images them as something else.
Last week they gave him a pomme de terre - a potato (a word très drôle, and which the wide mouth refuses to pronounce as Etienne does, to his amusement). It was a potato très drôle, aussi. But Etienne had to fly away before he could dream over it. (He says he flies in an "air bus" but I will sooner see Etienne sprouting wings like a dragonfly, et voila, buzzing away in the dawn. Flying is for insects, birds, bats, et la repartie.) "Anyway," as les enfants say in the cul de sac, no painting, no play. Last week Etienne was the "dull boy" in the story about Jacques and all work.
This week there was a tomato (encore, the wide mouth must stretch and make kissy O's to say this in the way américain). Potato - tomato. Bien. The one imaged the other.
Once home, Etienne set the tomato on it's ear (or head or derrière - I do not understand the anatomie of fruit), and voila, it was something else and the pomme de terre was transformed. Chat et chien.
Et voila, il est à la fin. Au revoir,