Last spring, we took the kids to London for a weekend. It was an amazing trip, because London is where John and I went for our honeymoon. And this was the first time where all of the kids were ALL old enough to appreciate the city and remember it.
We took them to a Thai restaurant that we ate at when we were on our honeymoon, and the SAME lady still works there/owns it. John makes several trips to London throughout the year, and tends to frequent the same places, so she easily remembered him, and was beyond flattered that he brought his family back to see her. We went to a show - The Lion King. They were all fun at the theater, but Miss B especially. I assumed she would connect with the actors and dancers, she is all about being on stage. But instead, she turned to me halfway through and asked "Mommy, where do all the dress-up clothes come from?" I explained that there was a costume designer, and she insisted on knowing the name of the person in charge of the costumes. That was pretty cool.
Wait a minute. Wasn't this post was supposed to be about Paris? Hold on, I'm getting to that part.
Monkey especially loved the Natural History Museum in London. He would have looked at, and read about, every single rock if we'd let him. None of the rest of us are really big museum people --Something about large crowds and patience levels I think. And it was a whole lot of rocks. But Monkey was thrilled and couldn't get enough, and it broke my heart to have to hustle him through faster than he would have liked.
I left thinking, we've got to get this kid to the Louvre.
So for his First Communion present this spring, monkey got a train ticket to Paris. It was a tough job, but I volunteered to "take one for the team" and go with him. Monkey and me on our very own overnight date to Paris. I bought a museum pass that would get us in and out of several different museums over the course of two days, the Louvre included - without waiting in line. I cleared my head so I could answer any and all questions he might ask, and ask he did. I stopped counting when we were waiting on the train platform. To leave La Hulpe. He was already at 53.
My favorites: At the Musee d'Orsay he asked: "Mommy, is the fence around this statue electric?" No, I answered. Three second pause. "Oh, you're right. It's not." And also from the Orsay: Mommy, why didn't they call this room the "naked" room. All the people in these paintings are naked.
It was a delightful two days. We walked in and out of museums, just because we could. We made two visits to the Louvre, the first day to the Egyptians and the mummies, and the second day to see the Mona Lisa. We made two visits to the Orsay. We saw Monet at the Orangerie. He asked room monitors questions, in french, to their utter delight. He made friends everywhere (just like his father does). He was a fun dinner date. He bought souvenirs for his brother and sister, with his own money. The only disappointment was when he lost his sunglasses (it is monkey after all, it wouldn't be a trip if he didn't lose something.) And also not being able to find a good nighttime view of the Eiffel Tower (that subway line was closed for repairs and even though we walked forever, we just couldn't see more than the top.) Oh well, I explained, that just leaves us something to do for next time. He agreed.
I will forever be thankful for those 36 hours with my monkey.
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