3 Dec 2011

Only Children

I’m in Paris for the weekend with Honey. She’s doing her Kumon while I’m writing this blog. I know, the dreaded Kumon.

But it only takes 10 minutes. Afterwards we are going skating on the Eiffel Tower. And then the zoo. And then a movie too. (Its all very Lou Reed, if you can forget the fact that he wrote Perfect Day about heroin. Allegedly.)

We’ve escaped the rest of the family, and its just me and her. Wow! I can see why only children end up being masters of the universe. When you just have one person to relate to, you can enter their world, or at least be in a world which isn’t relying on shouting “Shut up! Sit Down at the Table!” and so on. We have discussed snails (eating), French style of jam (using Bonne Maman as a template), French hairstyles, the relative beauty of the Eiffel Tower and why French bread is so much nicer. And more. We are both having a perfect weekend. With four, I just herd them around, shouting, and hope they pick up information by osmosis. Of course, bringing just one child to Paris relies on the good will of Mr Millard to do crowd control at home with three children, and the dog. Let’s hope they have remembered to open the Advent House, because there’s a chocolate behind every door.

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