Naturally, "la rentrée" went very smoothly for BB, who practically galloped through the door of his new school on Friday morning.
Although he disappeared briefly up my skirt when the teacher bent down to say hello, he soon emerged again, and managed to nod and smile, hesitently.
His school has only two classes, two teachers and one classroom assistant. It's in a beautiful old building with a courtyard, and pretty much corresponds to a picture-book ideal of a slightly old-fashioned primary school, complete with blackboard and chalk (I seem to remember hearing that blackboards didn't exist anymore? But I must have been mistaken).
All in all, we're very happy with the idea that he will spend three years there.
However, this being France, there is of course a hitch.
The hitch is that - after a 2 month summer break and (so far) one full day of school, it turns out that Tuesday will be a strike day.
Yes that's right: the teachers will be out on strike, so school will in effect be closed.
So as I return to work on Monday after a 4-week holiday, it may be that I have to ask for Tuesday off.
C'est la vie. This is France, for better and for worse... and always with an indulgent smile at its clichéd foibles...
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