One of the things that always amuses me with French language, is the sheer amount of it. Not quite the same as the 97 Inuit words for snow but in this bit of France at least they do love to talk, to use several words where just one would do, and discuss everything in teeny weeny detail. I had to see Milla's head teacher yesterday to discuss what school she will go in September. Turned out all the head really needed was to be given one piece of paper, but she still trilled on and on about Romy's character (relevant, how?) grilled me about this, that and the other, waffled on about our arty family and then told Milla she was too quiet (it's called British reserve, lady).
Mesdames et Messieurs I give you the perfect example. You know that book called 'The Horse Whisperer'?
Well, in French the title translates as 'The Man Who Murmurs Into The Ears Of Horses.'
It's rather endearing quand même.