11.17.17

Parlez vous Francais?

A Euro double can hold 4 quite uncomfortably if you are determined.  

H1 was determined at about 12am last night.  

I'll have the crumbs with a side of air.

H2 was determined at about 3am.  

Then they pestered me refusing to go back to sleep until all 4 of us were crammed into the tiny bed, me using the nightstand as a bed annex.  

It wasn’t too tumultuous, but shaking the girls out of bed at 10:30am was not an easy gig.  H2 was motivated by the promise of croissants.  H1 was more of a challenge, murmuring weird spells as I shook her awake.  

Thinking we were ready for the weather, we headed towards Luxembourg Gardens and a pastry at Dalloyau.  Immediately, H1 announced she was cold, but we bundled her a little tighter and made it to food.  

BAN JOR NO

2 croissants, 2 pain du chocolats, and 3 quiches later, we were in the park, sitting in a bandstand with pigeons for company.  It became clear that we didn’t have enough clothes on, but we needed to hammer these pastries no matter how cold we were.  

The Hs maybe ate 1 combined.  Good start to the day - cold and hungry.  

H1 was pumped on Mission: Paris, a scavenger hunt book with fun facts for lots of locations around the city, so she wanted to explore the park to find certain statutes to earn points.  Although H2 is reading now, she wasn’t interested in this book learnin’ - she wanted a playground.  

Back to the apartment to get bundled up and then back to the park, we walked around the fountain and through the falling leaves to the playground and it’s crazy zipline.  It was 2.50e a kid, but worth it all.  The zipline followed a track like a roller coaster and the girls crashed into each other spinning around the track.  Climbing through the various structures, H1 got scared because of the emptiness and quiet running back spooked.  

Towards the end of our time, a boy about the girls age decided to give the ziplines a go.  Unfortunately he didn’t realize that he should move out of the way at the bottom because the girls sent about 120 pounds combined his way.  They mashed this pour kid and then decided that it was his fault for not getting out of the way.  S asked a fellow mom how to say sorry in French, but by the time we had the words, the family had fled from our American brutality.  

I guess we are just another example of ugly Americans coming to stomp on the French.  

Post-zipline, H2 was demanding ice cream, but it was about 42 degrees so she agreed to an ice cold sprite and a handful of trail mix that she’d picked all the nuts out of so it was just m&m's.  Healthy living.  

We headed through St. Germain in search of Sephora for some face wash left at home, and passed by Les Deux Magots on our way, one of Hemingway’s supposed haunts, and we hit…

ICE CREAM #1

At Grom, the Hs and I did two scoops a piece while S did clean up work on the girls’.  

We brought John Waters' moustache with us on the trip.

After our errand, we head to Notre Dame to climb the tower.  Upon seeing the church, we were asked can we climb the tower.  Upon entering the church, we were asked can we climb the tower.  At every small chapel, we were asked is this where we climb the tower.   We lit candles for Grandpa Birch and Grandma Carol, as well as the much missed Lola.  Then it was on to is this where we climb the tower once again.  The girls did appreciate the story of Joan of Arc and were suitably outraged at the injustice of her death.  They lit a candle for her as their own patron saint.  Finally, outside, after briefly enjoying the beautify of the architecture, stained glass, and imagery, we headed to get in line for the towers.  

Entering the tower, the man with the metal detector wand asked S parlez vous francais? after she said, according to her, her best bonjour EVER.  To which she replied non and the guy shrugged in sadness.  He didn’t ask me!  Or the people in front or behind.  S is pumped because either she is so chic she appears French or she is so beautiful this guy wishes she was.  It’s a win-win for her.  

I’m still just a barbarian.

It is about 400 steps up - 400 winding steps which the girls proceeded to run up, hurrying anybody fool enough to be in front of them.  At the top, they looked for one moment and then said let’s go!  We managed to get them to see the bell, Emmanuel, but they mostly enjoyed laughing at me trying to squeeze through the belfry entrance.  

All the way to the top where both girls announced I have to pee, right after having asked to go higher.  All the way back down to a frantic dash through the city to find a McDonald’s to pee and then back towards our hotel for dinner reservations.  

Our entire journey through the city today has been accompanied by the sound of pigeons’ cooing or a cat purring because H2 has figured out that with missing two front teeth she can make a really good imitation.  H1 has sung and muttered under her breath, probably about how dumb we are, but I think it is probably songs from Descendents 2.  

I made reservations at a nice place, but I regretted it as soon as I realized how little the girls had eaten prior to dinner.  Definitely not a successful set up.  

We walked passed the Pantheon and through the neighborhoods around the Sorbonne, in which we all learned that in Paris, university means go outside to smoke and talk.  

The restaurant was a tiny place, maybe 12 seats and we took up 4, the first in the door.  The chef and the waitress were very nice and translated the menu for our barbarian selves.  We ended up with a poached pear with chorizo and blue cheese, escargot, 2 steaks - one split for the girls, and duck.  The appetizers were fantastic, but not as fantastic as promising a HUGE lego if they would eat a piece of snail and watching them shake and retch as the snail came near their mouths.  The best was H1 asked S to hide the snail and then S mashed into bread like giving a dog a pill.  Neither girl managed the challenge.

Right after this, we watched H1’s mood change like the rain clouds coming over the city.  She started fake crying, refusing to eat, and then using her worst manners because, drum roll please - SHE WAS GOING TO HAVE TO EAT STEAK.  Damn, we are the worst.  

Patented "It's not that bad" symbol

We did our best to ignore, and she ate a little steak, and then with that little bit of food in the belly, they both needed to hit the head…

KEY MOMENT: Getting out from the tight tables, H2’s ample booty knocked into the table beside us over turning an (empty) wineglass and sending it topping off the table - BUT I CAUGHT IT before it hit the floor like I was a World Series hero.  The Americans behind us said good catch and I said normally it is things less precious I save, like my child’s THICK noggins.  

Dessert was approaching after a really tasty meal, but it wasn’t going to happen.  I saw the eyes of the caged animal across from me, and I knew the time was over.  

Mind you, since we sat down, my children have asked can we get gelato.  I knew what really mattered tonight.  

The kind waitress gave the girls flower crowns that she had bought, and we were on our way.  

Walking down the empty street, H1 and I had a contest to see who could jump in front of who and my booty is so solid that I literally blew her off her feet with my butt when she ran into my backside. This sent us all into laughter - and then S pulled H1 aside and said don’t forget what I told you about dinner and that little heathen snapped to attention.  

This led us to…

ICE CREAM #2

Because Odin knows I needed another.

Back to the hotel to watch Disney Channel in French, and now finally, after one more talk about taking inventory of one’s emotions - the blessed relief of bedtime.

YES! WEENIES!  

Night night Paris - see you tomorrow for a kid-centric walking tour…..orrrr maybe just some more pastries.