kenny's parisian adventure - day 5: le grand cerf
Friday, May 9, 2008 – Paris
After a few near-conscious experiences, we all finally awoke around 9:30am. Our morning breakfast in the room was punctuated by the delivery of our clean laundry, fresh from Michelle’s. Unreal.
Without a real plan, but with a definite need for supplies, we moseyed out of the hotel around 10:30am and went foraging in the neighborhood. We stopped at a corner pharmacy for more wipes, then hit up the super marche for diapers, toothpaste, and snacks. Why am I telling you this? Well, I wrote it all down in my journal, so it must be of some importance. That and the fact that I got hosed at the counter of the super marche for not knowing that I was supposed to weigh the fruit myself before they rang it up at the register. Flustered, I just pushed it away. This necessitated a trip to Michelle’s customary fruit stand, where the gentlemen gave us some bananas, strawberries and assorted odds and ends before shooing us away and placing it all on Michelle’s tab. The Godmother strikes again.
Unsure of what exactly it was that we wanted to do, we wound up at a nearby playground where Kenny could run amok and blow off some steam. Maybe even work off some of those baguettes.
The playground was a veritable UN, with kids running around yelling in French, English, Italian and more. Kenny managed to steal/borrow a small soccer ball from one kid with a very understanding grandmother. He then threw a mini fit when we had to give said ball back, while I apologized profusely in broken French.
Kenny rushes off to see if the train company is hiring engineers.
Overboard spotted a young boy with a Red Sox cap, who turned out to be Sebastian, the son of a very nice expat from Massachusetts, who had met her French husband seven years ago while working in Africa. Sebastian was kind enough to share his ball with Mr. K while Overboard and I chatted with his maman. It was very cool to speak in true Franglaise with her and her friend, another mom, who was Quebecois.
After leaving the park, we grabbed a cheese and tomato sandwich for Kenny and some delicious Bo-Bun for Overboard and myself. I Love Bo-Bun was this tiny Vietnamese storefront located next to the hotel that smelled incredibly delicious every time we walked past its open doors (which was at least two or three times a day). The Bo-Bun special was a big bowl of noodles and goodness that managed to live up to our expectations.
Now, the plan was to take our lunches into the garden and eat there, so I popped into the hotel kitchen to grab some water, glasses, a plate, knife, etc. Kenny had other plans, however, and while I tried to navigate with a full tray and an angry toddler, I lost my balance and let the tray slip, causing a glass to smash on the hotel lobby floor. Merde, I said. More than once.
The incredibly sweet hotel staff reassured me that it was no big deal, but that didn’t stop me from once again apologizing profusely in broken French (but this time for something I had done, not something the boy had done).
We ate our lunch in the room without further incident, and Kenny went down for another two and a half hour nap around 2:15pm. This time, Overboard took advantage of the downtime to go to L’Orangerie to see Monet’s “Water Lilies” while I stayed in the room with Mr. K and read my book.
Post-nap, we all went down to the garden for a coffee and snack with Michelle, where Kenny ate strawberries by the handful, and discovered a love of these small, sweet pastries that packed an awesome sugar-rush punch.
Overboard adds a spot of milk to her coffee.
"I feel strange. As if my energy level is about to spike suddenly."
Sugar Boy and his Mimi play "I may or may not be a potted plant!"
The evening’s dinner and entertainment was held at Laurent and Anne-Sophie’s house just outside of the city.
Laurent looked good, although he’s definitely developed a touch of a stomach over the years. His “Daddy Physique” I think you could call it. Anne-Sophie looked great, basically the same as she did when I last saw her 14 years ago. For a mother of three, that’s high praise.
Foreground: Chivas & Laurent playing fetch.
Background: Thom & Kenny playing ball.
Speaking of the last time I saw the Ferric family, at the time, Hugo was two and Theo was still in the womb. Thom? Not even a flicker in his Daddy’s eye. But now it’s a different story.
Hugo is a tall, thin 16-year-old, who may travel to Atlanta next year to follow in his father’s footsteps at Chez Rolnick.
Theo is 14 and enormous. If he lived in the States he’d probably be playing linebacker for some all-state football team. In my mangled French, I inadvertently insulted him by calling him “enormé,” which I took to mean “enormous,” but is more often used to mean, “grossly overweight.” I think they understood what I was trying to get at. At least I hope they did.
Thom is 10 and very sweet. If he stays on course, he’ll be the heartbreaker of the trio, as he’s got a very handsome face. For now, however, he is the little brother and has to play second fiddle to Hugo and Theo’s rough housing, name calling, and general brotherly nonsense. You could tell he was excited to have a “younger brother” in the house for the night, who he could play with and impress.
"Goooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaalllllllllll!"
The newest addition to the Ferric family is a hyperactive two-year-old mutt named, Chivas. She’s a sweet dog who can jump like Spud Webb and can’t sit still for more than two or three seconds at a time. Her energy levels were almost cartoon-esque. Kenny found her most entertaining, since she moved at a pace that Sadie hasn’t achieved since long before Kenny was born.
All of the night’s action took place in the backyard, which is also home to the family basketball hoop. Unlike Kenny’s vertically challenged father, Hugo, Theo and Laurent were all tall enough to hold Kenny up so he could dunk the ball. In a move that surprised no one in attendance, “Monsieur More” demanded that this activity continue long enough to attempt around 356 dunks. We teased Theo that he had quickly become Kenny’s best friend due to his newfound toddler-lifting abilities.
Basket, Kenny. Assist, Theo.
In addition to the basketball hoop, the backyard contained a wide array of balls for Kenny to throw or kick around. Later, cars and trains were added to the mix, thus negating Kenny’s desire to eat or sit at the table. To showcase his displeasure at the idea of being at the table and not on the ground with his new toys, Kenny threw a few mega-tantrums that raised his game to new levels.
Dinner was a nice mix of champagne, wine, melon, haricot verts and steak (what, no veal?).
Thrown off-guard by the older boys’ size, I was often reminded of their true age by their behavior. They were teenagers after all. Teenagers prone to doing what they want, when they want, often recklessly, and with just the right touch of shock and outrage when called out on their actions by a parent or grandmother. But I must say that all of the boys did a great job of making Kenny feel special, and he reveled in having them to follow around and look up to (literally).
At the end of the night, after we had switched Kenny into his pajamas for the ride home, Michelle, Anne-Sophie and Thom serenaded him with the “Le Grand Cerf” (complete with the requisite hand gestures). Kenny was enthralled and asked for “more” after every performance. I think he managed to get about 10 or 11 concerts out of them.
On the ride home, Kenny didn’t pass out (much to our amazement), but he did snack a bit and asked Michelle to sing him more kid’s songs (much to his delight).
The Rolnick family passed out at the hotel en masse around 11pm.
After a few near-conscious experiences, we all finally awoke around 9:30am. Our morning breakfast in the room was punctuated by the delivery of our clean laundry, fresh from Michelle’s. Unreal.
Without a real plan, but with a definite need for supplies, we moseyed out of the hotel around 10:30am and went foraging in the neighborhood. We stopped at a corner pharmacy for more wipes, then hit up the super marche for diapers, toothpaste, and snacks. Why am I telling you this? Well, I wrote it all down in my journal, so it must be of some importance. That and the fact that I got hosed at the counter of the super marche for not knowing that I was supposed to weigh the fruit myself before they rang it up at the register. Flustered, I just pushed it away. This necessitated a trip to Michelle’s customary fruit stand, where the gentlemen gave us some bananas, strawberries and assorted odds and ends before shooing us away and placing it all on Michelle’s tab. The Godmother strikes again.
Unsure of what exactly it was that we wanted to do, we wound up at a nearby playground where Kenny could run amok and blow off some steam. Maybe even work off some of those baguettes.
The playground was a veritable UN, with kids running around yelling in French, English, Italian and more. Kenny managed to steal/borrow a small soccer ball from one kid with a very understanding grandmother. He then threw a mini fit when we had to give said ball back, while I apologized profusely in broken French.
Kenny rushes off to see if the train company is hiring engineers.
Overboard spotted a young boy with a Red Sox cap, who turned out to be Sebastian, the son of a very nice expat from Massachusetts, who had met her French husband seven years ago while working in Africa. Sebastian was kind enough to share his ball with Mr. K while Overboard and I chatted with his maman. It was very cool to speak in true Franglaise with her and her friend, another mom, who was Quebecois.
After leaving the park, we grabbed a cheese and tomato sandwich for Kenny and some delicious Bo-Bun for Overboard and myself. I Love Bo-Bun was this tiny Vietnamese storefront located next to the hotel that smelled incredibly delicious every time we walked past its open doors (which was at least two or three times a day). The Bo-Bun special was a big bowl of noodles and goodness that managed to live up to our expectations.
Now, the plan was to take our lunches into the garden and eat there, so I popped into the hotel kitchen to grab some water, glasses, a plate, knife, etc. Kenny had other plans, however, and while I tried to navigate with a full tray and an angry toddler, I lost my balance and let the tray slip, causing a glass to smash on the hotel lobby floor. Merde, I said. More than once.
The incredibly sweet hotel staff reassured me that it was no big deal, but that didn’t stop me from once again apologizing profusely in broken French (but this time for something I had done, not something the boy had done).
We ate our lunch in the room without further incident, and Kenny went down for another two and a half hour nap around 2:15pm. This time, Overboard took advantage of the downtime to go to L’Orangerie to see Monet’s “Water Lilies” while I stayed in the room with Mr. K and read my book.
Post-nap, we all went down to the garden for a coffee and snack with Michelle, where Kenny ate strawberries by the handful, and discovered a love of these small, sweet pastries that packed an awesome sugar-rush punch.
Overboard adds a spot of milk to her coffee.
"I feel strange. As if my energy level is about to spike suddenly."
Sugar Boy and his Mimi play "I may or may not be a potted plant!"
The evening’s dinner and entertainment was held at Laurent and Anne-Sophie’s house just outside of the city.
Laurent looked good, although he’s definitely developed a touch of a stomach over the years. His “Daddy Physique” I think you could call it. Anne-Sophie looked great, basically the same as she did when I last saw her 14 years ago. For a mother of three, that’s high praise.
Foreground: Chivas & Laurent playing fetch.
Background: Thom & Kenny playing ball.
Speaking of the last time I saw the Ferric family, at the time, Hugo was two and Theo was still in the womb. Thom? Not even a flicker in his Daddy’s eye. But now it’s a different story.
Hugo is a tall, thin 16-year-old, who may travel to Atlanta next year to follow in his father’s footsteps at Chez Rolnick.
Theo is 14 and enormous. If he lived in the States he’d probably be playing linebacker for some all-state football team. In my mangled French, I inadvertently insulted him by calling him “enormé,” which I took to mean “enormous,” but is more often used to mean, “grossly overweight.” I think they understood what I was trying to get at. At least I hope they did.
Thom is 10 and very sweet. If he stays on course, he’ll be the heartbreaker of the trio, as he’s got a very handsome face. For now, however, he is the little brother and has to play second fiddle to Hugo and Theo’s rough housing, name calling, and general brotherly nonsense. You could tell he was excited to have a “younger brother” in the house for the night, who he could play with and impress.
"Goooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaalllllllllll!"
The newest addition to the Ferric family is a hyperactive two-year-old mutt named, Chivas. She’s a sweet dog who can jump like Spud Webb and can’t sit still for more than two or three seconds at a time. Her energy levels were almost cartoon-esque. Kenny found her most entertaining, since she moved at a pace that Sadie hasn’t achieved since long before Kenny was born.
All of the night’s action took place in the backyard, which is also home to the family basketball hoop. Unlike Kenny’s vertically challenged father, Hugo, Theo and Laurent were all tall enough to hold Kenny up so he could dunk the ball. In a move that surprised no one in attendance, “Monsieur More” demanded that this activity continue long enough to attempt around 356 dunks. We teased Theo that he had quickly become Kenny’s best friend due to his newfound toddler-lifting abilities.
Basket, Kenny. Assist, Theo.
In addition to the basketball hoop, the backyard contained a wide array of balls for Kenny to throw or kick around. Later, cars and trains were added to the mix, thus negating Kenny’s desire to eat or sit at the table. To showcase his displeasure at the idea of being at the table and not on the ground with his new toys, Kenny threw a few mega-tantrums that raised his game to new levels.
Dinner was a nice mix of champagne, wine, melon, haricot verts and steak (what, no veal?).
Thrown off-guard by the older boys’ size, I was often reminded of their true age by their behavior. They were teenagers after all. Teenagers prone to doing what they want, when they want, often recklessly, and with just the right touch of shock and outrage when called out on their actions by a parent or grandmother. But I must say that all of the boys did a great job of making Kenny feel special, and he reveled in having them to follow around and look up to (literally).
At the end of the night, after we had switched Kenny into his pajamas for the ride home, Michelle, Anne-Sophie and Thom serenaded him with the “Le Grand Cerf” (complete with the requisite hand gestures). Kenny was enthralled and asked for “more” after every performance. I think he managed to get about 10 or 11 concerts out of them.
On the ride home, Kenny didn’t pass out (much to our amazement), but he did snack a bit and asked Michelle to sing him more kid’s songs (much to his delight).
The Rolnick family passed out at the hotel en masse around 11pm.
posted by Dr. Overboard and Prof. Evenkeel at 8:30 AM
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