The husband with the boy on his knee eyed me. Every OTHER male in the room eyed me. "You seem to have made an impression," Mr. French said carefully."...robably no one is more surprised than I am, Sir," I told him. I turned my attention back to the TV; eventually, they all did, too.Twenty minutes later, Mama French came boiling through the door with a plate of baked goods -- and despite the fact that I was halfway across the room from Mr. French, I got the plate right after he did. She didn't. Reaching out with one hand she patted and stroked his head, stealing any last words from him. Rubbing her thumb back and forth through his hair she tenderly capped his head and pushed him down towards her feet. With no resistance he drifted down at her touch to her feet and kissed her foot before looking up from the floor, his eyes a picture of innocence, one of puppy love.She chuckled at his attempts of innocence, only resolving him to try harder at his puppy eyes. To break him from his. More

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