My French grandmother told me many years ago that ” my little cabbage” was a term of endearment.
Cabbage? who knows. its the French.
So I got a brussel sprout, donated by a Latin/French student. its a little cabbage, right? nasty little suckers.
I hot glued it to a white board and left it on the French teacher’s computer. Mon Petit Chou.
Her: What the hell am I going to do with this once it starts to rot?
Me:Not my problem now.
Its still on her desk, mummifying.