I put Coco in the wrap -- have I mentioned she is just absolutely toasty warm in that thing? -- and hit the streets, whirling and twirling in the snow like a drunken schoolgirl (what? again?) It felt like my life was a movie and I was a STAR.
It's the kind of weather that inspires me to make pancakes and drink hot chocolate. So that's what I made for dinner. Lucien now thinks I'm the best mom ever, a belief I will quickly squash when he receives socks for Christmas.
Speaking of socks, Lucien came home in someone else's socks yesterday. When I asked where his socks were, he told me he'd put them under his bed at school. When I asked why, he answered with a sigh, "Because I was doing a betise, mama." I'm just so darn grateful he's internalized that word and I look forward to it being the theme of the rest of our lives.
I went out shopping today. I shouldn't try to look cute when there's snow on the ground. Thanks to my stupid slippery riding boots, I nearly tasted sidewalk half a dozen times. Mama slipped and slid all over Saint Germain in her attempt to buy Lucien a sweet pair of choo-choo slippers at the Gap.
I went into the store and asked if they had any more of the slippers in the Loosh's size. The woman stared at me like I had lost my darn fool mind and said, "No, madame, we don't have any more. The 25th is coming. It's Christmas."
Ohhhhh... thank you, stating-the-obvious lady! I don't know how I could have forgotten, especially standing here conversing with you with that floppy Santa hat on your head.
It's hard to find boxes around here. They don't hand them out willy-nilly with every purchase like in the U.S. of A. I've been scrounging around the apartment trying to find box-like things with the potential to house gifts. I've found several but they're mostly empty food containers from Picard or the grocery store. I can't wait to see the look on Lucien's face when he rips off the wrapping paper and discovers Santa's brought him some saumon en croute or a box of cereal.
Happy snowy Parisians on the Pont Neuf
Saint Germain is full of shoppers in a hurry. They're crossing the street in front of rapidly approaching cars more aggressively than ever. I cross along with the herd, feeling like a badass and thinking to myself, "Well, they can't kill ALL of us, can they?"
Now this is a very important lesson so listen up. It is true they can't kill all of us -- but it is also true they will TRY.
Lucien still believes this is a clothing optional home and he chooses "no." It's been no big deal up until recently. It gets dark so early these days, our lights come on before the Loosh goes to bed. And we have no curtains in the main room windows. So when the neighbors ride up on the elevator, they look right into our living room and get an eyeful of a small naked boy sitting on the couch waving at them maniacally. Eyes are quickly averted and judgments made.
Snow in Paris makes me giddy, mes choux,