As I mentioned before, my husband spoke fluent French, and he and Leo would converse. I asked Leo one time what it means when my husband made certain sounds. I could only approximate the words. She laughed and translated, and the next time he was fixing something on the car, and used those words, I made the mistake of laughing. You should have seen the hurt look he gave me.
Anyway...to Austin. The couple in the building behind us were a "mixed marriage" too. He was an American officer, and she was a French national when they met. Married in Europe. By the time we met, they had a 4 year old child, a charming little boy.
One evening, they and my husband wanted to go to some affair (I think at the University), but I didn't want to go, so I volunteered to babysit Yves so they could all go to whatever the affair was. Yves and I were having a wonderful time together (after Stephen was put to bed). We were chatting away, when I didn't understand something he said, and asked for a repeat. He immediately understood that I didn't understand French, for that was the language he in which he had made his statement. He spoke French and English equally well. So, the rest of the evening was spent with Yves teaching me the French word for everything in the apartment. And correcting my pronunciation until I got it right! I'm still amused when I think about it.
When Maman and Pere returned, Yves was still teaching me. I wouldn't venture to say who of us had a more enjoyable evening!
Tomorrow...research