Traveling with the toddler I knew it would be a bit of a challenge and I wasn’t wrong. But it’s also been hysterical.
3 days in Paris and the toddler already knows more French than me.
She is great at making friends with waiters and barkeeps which is very helpful. So many people kiss her that I’m kind of jealous.
In such a small room, it’s 3 to the bed, which means I get heel-kicked in the plums half-a-dozen times a night.
I’ve also been head-butted twice.
I’ve had a nipple tweaked before she realised her mistake of grabbing a man-tit and not her mum.
I’ve woken up to her staring into my face trying to pry one of my eyes open while repeatedly yelling – “awake!”
Shev loves saying “cheese” when her picture is taken which makes her look like some cute toothy blob-fish.
We had a conversation at 4.30 this morning about what we’d all have for breakfast before she got back to a blissful sleep and I stared at the beams.
She had a creepy little doll she called Bae that came everywhere with us. It was on the plane, the train, in the bed. It even ate with us. Bae mainly interacts with another doll called Abbey that is a Sesame Street Muppet and not creepy. I wanted to Punt Bae into the Seine so many times. I hated the stupid thing. Yet today we lost Bae to Paris. Don’t know where or when, but the creepy little doll has joined the other creepy critters of the city. I feel awful that she lost her best mate. I really do. I got sad. I considered going to look for it, but Christ alone knows where the fateful jump occurred and I’m sure God will judge me for my inaction. But I would give at least a couple of Euro to have it returned. 2 Euro – tops.
So. 3 days down. I can’t wait to see what the next month brings. Now we drag our asses South for Easter.