This has to be one of the sillier ideas of the Mrs. Instead of politically correct nursery rhymes or sing and sign, which is even more PC, my son and heir and I are off to French lessons for babies.
I accept that my Frog (O Level grade B 1984) is a tad rusty and when I go to France I am always a tad rusty but can get by. But my poor son can only speak about five words of English, less than your average Jihadi seeking asylum and a life on benefits in this blessed Isle.
So I am not sure that my Frog will improve that much while Joshua's attendance looks to be utterly pointless. But...a) who am I to argue with the Mrs as she heads off for another day of vital work filling empty millennial heads with left wing clap trap and b) there are likely to be some fit young mums sharing in this exercise in total futility.
Bon chance a moi, as we say here in Bristol.