It's Thanksgiving where you are. Here in France it is just another Thursday. We didn't even have turkey or a big meal. We went to a fancy seaside town called St. Tropez that was really famous many years ago. Now, there are still lots of boats in the harbour, but the place isn't as well liked as it used to be. We did see some large yachts that came from America, London, South Africa, and other places. One was called Don't Touch.
After wandering around the streets of St. Tropez, we ate lunch outside because it wasn't very cold. Your dad and I ate mussels, which are like clams. You eat the inside, not the shell. The girls were a little bit more adventurous, but not a lot. They are lucky that the French like fried potatoes, too.
St. Tropez is more of a summer town, so the places there were closed. Only a few shops opened their doors. Larien really wanted to get something because Inwe got a watch in Aix yesterday. We ended up buying her some coloring books and a set of markers at a grocery store, called a marche here. That certainly wasn't exciting, but she liked it anyway.
I'm ready to be home and not because Provence isn't interesting. I miss you. I miss the dogs. I miss being able to completely understand other people when they talk. My brain hurts from reading French and telling your dad and sisters what it means. Hearing French and then turning it into something I understand in my head is bothersome as well. I wish I understood and spoke the language better.
When I see you on Monday, I am going to hug you for a long time and kiss your cheeks, your forehead, the top of your head, your belly, your neck and then do it all over again. Be a great boy for the family, Son. You and your dad will have your adventure in Walt Disney World in February. And, maybe in the next two years we'll take another trip to Europe. You'll be old enough to come with us then. We think Scotland would be a good choice. Your sisters want your dad to wear a kilt, which is kind of like a skirt for a man. Would you wear one?
I love you, Jack.