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Importance of online study for a college student

Nowadays, the challenges facing traditional colleges and universities are budget cuts and course shortages. They end up making students search for alternatives. With the internet as the ultimate education resource, and students even getting…

Travelling Abroad With Kids: Our Guide To A Stress-Free Trip

When you are travelling with kids, it can be easy to get very stressed out. You have so many people to handle and travelling is already quite a stressful experience. Of course, families love to travel abroad and it is all worth it once you get to your hotel and are able to relax. As long as you handle the journey well,…

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LEARNING CORNER

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I’ve discovered there’s more than one way to be the most popular mom at the school fair.

Some mamans slave over homemade madeleines, some donate bottles of Château Margaux wine to the raffle, and then there’s my tactic.

Flash the dads.

OK, so it wasn’t a part of the original plan. Last Friday was our first-ever school fair – and I was feeling the pressure. I knew I’d see Arabelle, the snooty Alpha-Maman who somehow managed four small children, ran the PTA with an iron fist, and baked the perfect quiche – all in peep-toe high heels. Her son Paul is pals with Big Fry, and I always dread her cold once-over glance as she looks at me like I’m a ver de terre that she inadvertently squashed with her 4-inch stilettos.

This time I was determined that there was no way Arabelle could accuse me of slacking off on my motherly duties. Armed with a homemade tarte aux abricots and my new violet linen wrap dress, I immediately signed up to man the pêche aux canards booth for the kiddies.

How hard could it be, right?

I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of 80 French kids hopped up on bonbons and let loose for the evening. The next 30 minutes was a blur of accepting tokens and pushing fishing poles into grabbing hands eager to fish for plastic ducks in an inflatable swimming pool.

Paul and his dad elbowed through the crowd for his turn. “Bonjour, Paul,” I said sweetly I handed him his fishing pole – just as the hook of an overexcited four-year-old caught on the hem of my dress.

The eyebrows of Paul’s papa shot up so far on his forehead that they almost went into orbit as he was treated to a full-frontal of my see-through fuschia lace bikini.

I told you that I dressed for the occasion.

It’s the French twist on your mother’s insistence on clean underwear:

Always wear pretty panties – you never know who’s going to see them.

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