Little C trying to hide from Mr Famapa. Kinda worked?

Oomoo used to love the Mr Men books that these guys are from when he was younger. I loved reading them to him, always hearing Arthur Lowe’s voice in my head as I read.

Uhm…

The guys under a very handsome, but slightly squashed tree.

Walking tens of thousands of steps is really hard on your feet, and here the three of us are getting the circulation going, back in our hotel room. Oomoo has inherited the pincer-like feet that runs in my mum’s side of the family. Great for yoga, and picking things up off the floor.

“No pictures!”. Not my fault everything looked to photogenic at our hotel breakfast, son.

Matchy matchy. Definitely went for a Dutch theme, even in Paris. That mango sorbet was deliiiiiiiish.