My wife is a native French speaker, and she's always spoken French to the kids. Unlike the author of this story, I've never really felt like I was getting left behind.<p>Before the kids were born, I spent a while studying an Assimil course (a fine course, from a French publisher, for people who like to learn mostly through osmosis with some notes). Afterwards, I plowed my way through 450 pages of a French non-fiction book, understanding maybe 75%. So when my wife started speaking French to the kids, I could kinda-sorta follow.<p>Several years later, I decided to improve my French. I forced myself to speak it as much as possible, and I read another 10,000 pages (about 40 novels' worth). I also bought DVD box sets of easy series and watched them straight through. Happily, my brain decided, "Oh, so it's French or nothing. Better learn some French, then."<p>Today I watch French TV and read French novels without much trouble. I can converse with French preschoolers, but adult conversation is a bit tricker—my spoken vocabulary is more like that of a bookish 9-year-old than that of an educated adult. On a good day, this doesn't slow me down much. I could probably work as a programmer in French, but I'd have trouble negotiating a consulting deal without more immersion.<p>Ironically, I currently speak French better than my kids do, because I get more exposure. Given the right environment, the brain seems to adapt.