Everything is better in French.
A picture of a black cat in a children’s book, for example. A cat sitting up with tiny little eyes and a tiny little smirk under a tiny little nose. A black cat holding a fork and spoon, staring back at us, daring us to judge her.
You could make that cat American. Write something like “the black cat likes fish” underneath her. You know what you have? You have a cartoon.
Make that cat French? The smirk becomes philosophical. That tiny little nose? Poetic. The fork and the spoon? An invitation.
“Le chat noir aime manger du poisson.”
See? It’s better. It’s art. Forty-something English majors will hang it in their living rooms next to flying Moulin Rouge dancers. A perpetual reminder that everything is better in French.