Griffin singing in French while playing his homemade guitar (cardboard box and rubber bands from a make-your-own-instrument science kit)
I eavesdropped today and was richly rewarded.
Griffin has recently started Dalcroze Eurhythmics, a group music-and-movement class for four-to-seven year olds. Since the teacher's bio indicated that he received his PhD in Switzerland, I told Griffin that his teacher probably speaks French; and then on the student info form, I indicated that Griffin is bilingual in English and French.
As my son was the first student to arrive this afternoon, from outside the classroom I could easily hear the teacher greet him in English, then in French. Without missing a beat, Griffin bonjoured him back.
Teacher: Comment est-ce que tu parles francais?
Griffin: Ma maman parle francais avec moi.
Teacher: Elle est francaise?
Teacher: Elle est quebecoise?
Griffin: Non, elle a allee [sic] a Paris avec son mari. Il parle seulement un petit peu de francais.
(No doubt the teacher is more confused now, as my son informed him that I am bilingual not because I am from France or Quebec but rather because I once traveled to Paris* with my husband. [Why didn't Griffin refer to him as "mon papa"? Etrange!])
Nevertheless, it tickled me that Griffin happily answered a near-stranger's questions in French, and I also recognize the value in having him speak French with a grown man--what with me and the other mamans at French playgroup and storytime, he hears almost exclusively young children and adult European women use the language. And as he has a clear affinity for males ("I don't like girls!"), I expect that having a male American teacher who can address him in good French is especially valuable.
*In fact, we weren't married at the time--Ed proposed to me during that same trip to France!