That French Glow

Riding the 92 bus on Thursday, stopped in vacation traffic at the Ecole Militaire, I see a not-unfamiliar sight. A sleek, shiny Jaguar, with slightly paunchy Parisian papa at the wheel. In the rear seat is pale, bespectacled 9 year old boy, perfectly groomed, gazing out the car window and de-crotting his nose in a big way. In the passenger seat is chic 40-something maman, her bejewelled hand holding the portable to her ear.

Wait -- what's wrong with this picture?? The lady is a different color from the rest of her family. No, she's not a different race -- she just has that golden-orange French perma-tan that can only come from little carrot pills and manmade UV rays or sprays.

My initial reaction is: they must rarely spend any time together as a family, because they just don't match. Anyone would know right away she didn't get the tan from basking at the beach. Maybe a 10-day Toussaint vacation will even the playing field.