There is a balloon story now about each of the girls and they will always make me laugh.
A few days ago while the girls ate their gouter, Noor was describing to me how her teacher tried to inflate a balloon, and how a little boy in her class came and poked it at so hard that, she said, ” Mama and then the balloon burped !!”
Indira and I looked at each other and grinned, because we both understood that she got that word mixed up with burst. Noor thought, I suppose, that we’d found the story very amusing so hoping to make us laugh some more she said again with a dramatic fling of her hands, “and the balloon burped!! “
The story about this balloon reminded me about another one that burst some years ago, this time at Indira’s hands.
She was only four then, and more prone than she is now to mix up her English, Hindi and French.
When her balloon burst at Pizza Hut one day, she ran to me saying anxiously, “Maman, le ballon is futted!!”
That, to me, will always be one of my fondest memories of Indira’s childhood 
