boys are gross

In many French homes, the toilet is in a little room of its own, and right next door (down the hall) you'll find the sink, and possibly the bathtub, but rarely a shower.  We don't have this set up in our little apartment.  We just have it all in one room.  And at times like this morning, I wish I did have the French set up.  All you moms out there will understand that the shower is quite possibly the only place we mothers can find a moment of peace and quiet.  But not me.  Not this morning.  There I was, relaxing in the shower when, knock knock knock.  Someone to deliver a number.  Boys are gross.


Last French Wednesday, I took Gaius to Paris to do what he wanted to do, climb Notre Dame (again).  We had a blast!  

standing in line (this hotdog will come up later)

view from the top

Gaius & Me

front and center

the big bell, Emmanuel

goofy

into Harry Potter

In the early afternoon, Christopher met us in the city and we hit this cool café.  Check out the huge clock on the far wall.  I want one of those!

this snack will come up later

The waitress was extremely nice to Gaius.  We ordered him a chocolate ice cream and each time she passed our table, she'd bring him something extra.  Extra cookies, a fee sirop drink...another free sirop drink.  She obviously did not have kids of her own.


After the café, Christopher had a meeting at a big fancy hotel in the city, heretofore known to us as "the scene of the crime."  On our way there, Gaius was complaining of a stomach ache.

the scene of the crime

While Christopher had his meeting, Gaius and I waited in this beautiful, fancy lobby.  Now, imagine that you have your coffee maker carafe in your hand.  Fill it with a large McDonald's chocolate shake.  Add about 1/2 a cup of thanksgiving stuffing, a handfull of craisins, and maybe two cups of cranberry juice.  Mix it well, then hold the carafe at shoulder height, and pour it, splashing onto the ground in front of you.  This is a close approximation of my situation in the lobby with Gaius when he got sick.  Luckily he missed the carpets!  But, he may have splashed a little bit into someone's briefcase.  This very kind French woman whispered to me as it was happening, "Ce n'est pas grave" (it's no big deal). 


One good thing about big fancy hotels is that they have a lightning fast housekeeping staff, and big bathrooms with lots of towels.  It really was "pas grave" and after the meeting, we headed out to dinner at our favorite place on Rue Cler, Café du Marché.  Gaius got sick there too (twice) and so we headed home, where I got sick too.  Apparently, there is a stomach bug going around in our town.  YUCK.


Anyway, we're all better now.  Oh, while we were on Rue Cler that night, I saw a tourist walking her dog.  The reason I know she was a tourist and not a local is that she actually scooped up her dog's poop!


à bientôt!