Our new French nanny

We've found someone to mind the Peanut in the evenings. Just for a few minutes -- long enough to let us clear the table and load the dishwasher. The Peanut adores him, asks for him by name even. Only one person could elicit this range of emotion in a toddler in one five minute time span:



And that person is Jacques Pepin. Or, in our house, "Jock Pa".



I don't know what it is about this lispy old Frenchman, but he captivates my child. Maybe it's the flashy knives or the constant use of Cuisinart brand appliances. Or maybe it's all the butter. Either way, it's fine by me. I finally have someone to pass on my copy of The Apprentice to. Parenting win.