pixar this

The other week we were perusing the aisles of our local Costco - as we like to do from time to time - when a certain item caught my eye: The Pixar Ultimate Movie Collection. Here, in one neat little package, were all eight Pixar movies (and a bonus disc for each as well). Seeing as we owned none of them, and it was reasonably priced, this was a no-brainer purchase. And, unlike an industrial-sized tub of salsa, one I would hardly regret.

It's been a lot of fun gradualy introducing Kenny to what are indisputably modern classics. As part of our bedtime routine, on certain nights, we'll sit down and watch 15-20 minutes of a movie before heading upstairs to get in jammies, brush teeth, etc. He gets all excited about it, and to make it even better, will snuggle in close to myself or Overboard on the couch before the movie starts. It's also wicked cute to hear him try and say "Buzz Lightyear" or "Lightning McQueen."

So far, (including movies watched while in flight) we've made our way through both "Toy Story" movies, "Finding Nemo," and "Cars." We just began watching "A Bug's Life" last night and Kenny was very keen on examining all of the "ants!"

The best part is that Overboard and I enjoy the films as much as he does.

Today Pixar. Tomorrow "Star Wars".

punk farm

A while back, Overboard got a book for Kenny called "Punk Farm on Tour." The artist/writer is related to someone she works with, and he even autographed the inside cover with a special inscription for Mr. K.

The revolves around a group of farm animals, who, naturally, have their own punk band, and go on tour when Farmer Joe heads off to a tractor society convention. Along the way, they sing their hit song, "The Wheels on the Van" and deal with the benefits and hazards of a nation-wide tour.

Kenny thinks the book is pretty rockin', and likes how Daddy sings each verse with extra rock/punk attitude. Now, when he hears the more sedate version of "Wheels on the Bus" while driving in the car, he punctuates the end of each verse by singing: "all through the townnnn.....YEEEEE-OWWWW!"

Thanks to my tutoring, he is also known to utter the phrases, "Rock Star" or "Hello, Cleveland!" and "Thanks! Don't forget to sign the mailing list and we've got t-shirts for sale in the back!"*


*The final phrase often is condensed to merely "in the back"

three cheers

Overboard and Aunt Carol have devised cheers for Kenny and his cousins Adam and Hannah. They are to be sung at top volume and with much enthusiasm (note the plethora of exclamation points).

The cheers are as follows (in order of creation):

A peach! A plum! A stick of gum!
Adam! Adam! Yum, yum, yum!

A train! A plane! A dinosaur!
Kenny! Kenny! Roar, roar roar!

A grape! A pear! A honeydew!
Hannah! Hannah! We love you!

Kenny looooooooves these cheers and will bust out one or all of them at the top of his lungs at any given moment. He's also been known to combine them into a mish-mash of sorts, cherry-picking lines from one cheer and mixing it into another. But the sentiment is the same. Which is nice.

caption this picture

The picture in question here is one of my favorites from our recent trip to Dallas (story coming soon). The pug in question (one of three) belongs to my Aunt Robin. Every time I see this shot I just start cracking up. Something about those little eyeballs just clearing the coffee table.


Kenny and his new sidekick Marty Pugman.

Okay, your turn to caption the shot. Let's hear it people. Impress us with your comedy.

so, what can i tell you?

Okay, I know, I know, it's been a while since my last post. I guess I figured that extended Paris series bought me more time than it did. Duly noted.

So, let's see, what can I tell you? Here's some fun stuff Kenny's been doing lately:

EATMEAL

Kenny loves oatmeal, but he prefers to call it "eatmeal." He does this before, during and after consuming a bowlful. My favorite being the after, when he has "eatmeal" all over his face and occasionally on his teeth as well. Then he looks at us, all proud, and announces, "eatmeal!" Which is true on two accounts: 1) He has just had some "eatmeal" and 2) He has just eaten his meal. So, what I'm saying here, is that the kid isn't just cute, he's a genius. But you knew that already.

TEETH

Speaking of teeth, we've been dealing with a super-crank for a while now, as Kenny's teeth have finally decide to show up (en masse). Cutting this many teeth at once has proven to be a real joy, and Kenny is happy to let us know about his unhappiness from time to time. Although, I will say that he's taken this like a champ for the most part. A champ that staggers around drooling and with his fist jammed in his mouth, but a champ nonetheless. Hmmm...

OL' BROWN EYES

A fun development has been Kenny's expanding repetoire of songs. Lately, he's been absolutely killing when he launches into "No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed" or "Hot Cross Buns". As a saving grace for us, Kenny received some new CDs for his birthday that are by They Might Be Giants, and feature kid's music that adults will find interesting. Some of the songs have become quite popular, and I've even noticed Overboard singing them to herself when Kenny's not even around.

sandwich boy

No great story here, just a cute shot of Kenny two-fisting his Potbelly's sandwich yesterday.


"How'd that piece of turkey get up on the ceiling?"

o, canada (why hast thou forsaken me?)

The Chicago Phantoms once again qualified for the HNA national championship tournament in Toronto, and played their hearts out the other weekend in search of hockey glory. Unfortunately, several other teams in their division had the same idea and the Phantoms came up empty. On the plus side, this year involved no trips to investigate the Canadian healthcare system.

While Evenkeel was in Toronto playing hockey, Overboard, Kenny and Grammy Shirley were in the Caribbean playing in the sun. So it was a win-win all around (even if the Phantoms didn't do much actual winning).

As the saying goes, "There's always next year."

Since we didn't have a game on Sunday, we left early and hit Niagra Falls on the way back to Buffalo. It was nice (and wet). Made me want to pee tho'.


Niagra Falls from the Canadian side. Impressive, eh?

first beso

[ed note: don't get used to this, but this post is also straight from Dr. Overboard]

Kenny gave me a kiss yesterday for the first time. Sure, in the past, he would lean in and let me kiss him (or I would steal them). But this time was different. He leaned in and gave me a true blue kiss. Two actually.

Happy Mommy.

first sentence

[ed note: the following is an actual, honest-to-goodness post from dr. overboard]

Now, I think Kenny's first sentence should've counted last week when he told Sadie to "eat breakfast." Verb. Predicate. What more do you need?

Well, Prof. Evenkeel wasn't so sure. He was looking for something a little more complex - somewhere between a Haiku and a Shakespearean sonnet, I suspect.

Well, last night, June 3, 2008, Kenny delivered his official first sentence: "I spy with my little eye...Sadie." Seven words - subject, verb, predicate AND prepositional phrase.

Booyah.

kenny's parisian adventure - day 7: à bientôt, paris

Sunday, May 11, 2008 – Air France #50

We woke up around 8:30am, feeling beleaguered. After our final in-room breakfast, we packed up and went downstairs to say our goodbyes before Joseph drove us back to Charles de Gaulle to catch our flight home.

The woman at the check-in counter earned my undying love when she switched our seats to the bulkhead, which made it impossible for Kenny to kick anyone’s seat for eight and a half hours. Now, no one came up to me to say “Thank You,” but I know they appreciated it.

Kenny spent our pre-boarding time staring out the giant windows at the planes and trucks on the tarmac, with an occasional stroll through the concourse mixed in for good measure. I peeked around the duty-free shops looking for any last minute items, but it was pretty much either perfumes or liquor. I didn’t think we had a pressing need for either, so I opted not to spend anything.


For a little boy who loves planes and trucks, this was the best possible spot in the whole wide world (or at least Charles de Gaulle airport).

The flight went relatively smoothly, especially since the plane’s in-seat monitor system was broken (thus taking away Kenny’s cartoon channel and our chance to catch a movie or three). To our relief, Kenny was fairly well amused by his various stories, coloring books, toys and walks up and down (and up and down, and up and down) the aisles. We even broke out our portable DVD player so Kenny and I could watch “Bee Movie” and then some episodes of Thomas the Train. He also opted to snooze for a few hours, which was a nice chance for Overboard and I to relax and read without little fingers trying to turn the pages for us.


Kenny succumbs to sleep, sweet sleep.

Towards the end of the flight, Kenny announced his desire to leave the plane by screaming at full volume. Repeatedly. This was not as popular as you might think, though the boy apparently felt he was giving an Academy-award winning performance.

After landing, we cruised through customs, got our bags, picked up the car, swung by Pita Inn for some sustenance (since I never did make it to Overboard's favorite falafel stand, l'As du Falafel in Paris) and then went home for dinner.

Kenny managed to stay awake until his normal (US) bedtime and then crashed out. We weren’t far behind.

All in all, this was a highly successful expedition, and Kenny proved to be a pro when it comes to international travel and improving US foreign relations. Which was a big plus, since his next big travel adventure was just around the corner.*

As I mentioned way back when I started this tale, you can view all of the Paris pix by clicking here and here.

Merci et bonne nuit!



*Stay tuned for Kenny's Caribbean Adventure...as told by Overboard. Coming soon!

kenny's parisian adventure - day 6: combien pour le petit?

Saturday, May 10, 2008 – Paris

We woke up around 9:20am, feeling somewhat rested. I slept fine, but Overboard had another bad night’s sleep, and I hoped it wouldn’t translate to a grumpy Mommy. She tried to appeal to Kenny’s sense of pity and get him to sleep a bit longer, but he wasn’t having it.

After breakfast in the room (where Kenny showed his disinterest in what were truly delicious croissants), we managed to head out a touch after 10am. The morning’s destination was the Parc de la Villette and the Cité des Sciences et de l'Industrie on the outskirts of town. This was a two train Metro ride of decent length, but Kenny enjoyed himself, which meant that we did as well.

When we arrived at the final stop, Overboard made her usual, “This subway station smells like urine” face, but we somehow managed to soldier on.

Parc de la Villette is an enormous area, which is home to a giant science and industry museum. There is also a huge dome that looks like a cross between the “Bean” in Chicago and the giant golf ball at Epcot Center in Orlando. This interesting piece of architecture lead to a protracted conversation of what exactly constitutes a “geodesic dome” and just what said domes are good for.


It's the world's largest pinball!

Even though it was Saturday, a lot of things were closed, so we made do just wandering about admiring the scenery. Eventually, we wandered all the way past a large arts and cultural building and came out by an expansive lawn where a group of men were playing soccer. Kenny and I broke out his inflatable ball and played our own impromptu game while Overboard wandered off to find a map of the area at the info center.


Kenny is almost ready to play for the US National Soccer team. Sad, but true.

Upon her return, we strolled around the paths that wound in and out of the buildings, and even stopped at one point in a garden of mirrors for a bizarre family portrait.

We stumbled across dueling carousels and selected the Jules Verne-themed one, which featured objects from his stories, including a mini-Nautilus, hot air balloon, rocket ship and cars. Kenny was pretty pleased to pilot the “Petit Prince” bi-plane – which I figured out how to raise and lower by selecting the proper button on the plane’s instrument panel. Luckily for all involved, Kenny didn’t pitch a fit at the end of the ride, even when confronted with the horrible truth that he wouldn’t be able to go on it again.


Kenny can't fly solo until he gets his full pilot's license.

With lunchtime quickly approaching, we ventured into a “Quick” fast food restaurant, when it was established that they did indeed have highchairs.

The restaurant may be called “Quick,” but it was pretty damn chaotic and slow inside. I had plenty of time to try and decipher the menu before reaching the front of the line. In the meantime, Overboard took Kenny upstairs to grab a table while I waited amidst the teeming, hungry masses in search of a greasy meal to clog their arteries and satiate their appetites.

I ended up getting Overboard a salad, Kenny a “Magic Box” (think: Happy Meal) with chicken fingers, and some chicken fingers and “rustic” fries for myself. Throw in some drinks, convert from Euros to dollars, and the whole thing cost around $25. But was it enough food? Hardly. Did I order poorly? Am I that accustomed to huge portions? We discussed this at length, but it all came down to two important issues: 1) We were still hungry, and 2) There was no way in hell that I was going to wait in that line again.

On the upside, Kenny got some sort of Anime action figure in his Magic Box that I dubbed, “Spaceman Spiff” in honor of “Calvin and Hobbes.” This was Kenny’s first action figure and he was fairly tickled by it. Additionally, we co-opted Buzz Lightyear’s mantra of, “To infinity, and beyond!” for Spiff to cry out. This proved to be most humorous and popular.

After lunch we made a beeline for the Metro and got back to the hotel for naptime. Kenny passed out en route, so we got him down in his pack n’ play at the hotel without issue and I celebrated the achievement by getting Bo-Buns for Overboard and myself. We ate quietly in the corner of the room and agreed that Bo-Bun kicked Quick’s ass when it came to taste, value and hunger satisfying.

This time around, Overboard napped along with Kenny while I made my way back to the Paris St. Germain soccer store on the Champs-Elysées. PSG is the city’s home team, and looking for a cool souvenir, I nabbed a jersey for myself and a small bear in a PSG uniform for Kenny. They had a big bear in a uniform, but it was too pricy. Instead, I got a small one that had a suction cup attachment and is actually meant to be displayed in the car. However, a quick snip of the cords, et voila, a teddy bear for the boy. Our clever name for the new bear? "Soccer Bear."

The store was super busy, but it must have been filled with other tourist-types like myself, because I was later informed by Michelle that PSG is, in fact, terrible. For the past few seasons they’ve been stinking up the joint, and were even about to be demoted a division for their non-winning ways. So, basically, I just bought the equivalent of a Kansas City Royals jersey. Oh well.

After naptime, we all showered and cleaned up in preparation of our big dinner out with everyone. Overboard wisely decided that we should try feeding Kenny dinner before he was placed in a distraction-filled environment, so she went down to the kitchen to whip up some pasta and sauce while we played in the room.

The early dinner was fairly successful, although Kenny didn’t care much for the eggs, even when carefully hidden amongst the pasta. On the plus side, he did eat a bit, which made it less likely that his parents would get all uptight when he decided to play instead of eat later on.

On the ride out to the restaurant, Michelle and I discussed PSG, which led to larger discussions of the problems at soccer matches these days – especially in Italy, France and England – in regards to violence and racism. It’s pretty unbelievable what is taking place (racist chants, banners, riots, etc.). I explained that even with the pervasive undercurrent of racism in the US, for people to do such things at a major US sporting event was unimaginable.

I remember watching an excellent piece on HBO’s “Real Sports” that dealt with this issue, and specifically what famous players like Thierry Henry were trying to do about it.

Dinnner was at an incredible restaurant near the Bois de Boulonge called Le Relais de Saint Cucufa. I’m pretty sure it was a converted home, which had a magnificent garden in the back.
In typical French fashion, the owners greeted us at the door with their big, sweet black Labrador, who we were told, had bad ears. He was very cute and Kenny approved whole-heartedly.

All of the Ferrics and the Clissons were there, and Kenny immediately went to play with the boys in the garden. The boys were even more excited when I produced Kenny’s inflatable beach ball. Hugo and Theo began playing volleyball, with an enamored Mr. K standing precariously in between them. Occasionally, they even let him take a swat or two at the ball.

Kenny and his French posse.

While the original plan was to have the boys watch Kenny, this wasn’t entirely practical. The younger three boys wanted to play hide and go seek, while the older two wanted to play volleyball and send text messages. This wasn’t a big deal, but it wasn’t very safe, since if you took your eyes off Kenny for a second, he’d make a break for the open door to the kitchen or down the steep staircase. So Overboard and I took turns hanging out in the garden and all was swell.

After awhile, Kenny came wandering back inside and snacked a bit. When he became restless again, Michelle commandeered him and his stroller and went out for a walk. I joked with everyone that I wasn’t worried about Michelle wandering through the notorious Bois de Boulogne after dark, but rather for anyone who was foolish enough to mess with Michelle.

The meal itself was outstanding. We started with champagne (of course) and various amuse bouches. This was followed by a crab salad (and a slight variation with fish for Overboard) and a main course of roasted lamb with mushrooms and potatoes.

During dinner, Laurent entertained his boys by recounting a story from when I had come to visit back when I was around 12 years old. Laurent and his best friends Fabian and Dominic had taken me out for a drive and ended up cruising through the Bois de Boulogne. Spying a prostitute or three standing on a corner, they slowed down, rolled down the passenger window and yelled out “Combien pour le petit?” (“How much for the little one?”) before speeding away, laughing hysterically. This garnered much mirth from the table and an amused raised eyebrow from Overboard.

When Michelle finally made her way back, Kenny wasn’t asleep, but he was very mellow and content. The boys took this as a great challenge and proceeded to wind him up again with energetic bouts of “Where’s Kenny?” and by playing with his toys in the rowdiest fashion imaginable. Our son was all too happy to scream along with glee.


The newest toy craze in France? "Wind-Me-Up Kenny!"

I began to protest about the boys’ desire to see how crazed they could get the boy, but instead resigned myself to eat the various desserts and chalk it up to “being on vacation.”

After dinner, I invoked “Grandma Jackie” and took a series of portraits. Hugo proved to be the quintessential moody teenager, and didn’t want to smile, or even feign enjoyment or interest in an activity that didn’t appeal to him. I called him out in front of everyone and asked him to smile and “pretend you won something,” to no avail.


Hugo being Hugo.

Everyone else was in the smiling mood, however, especially Kenny, who clamored to get into every picture and mug for the camera.


Kenny poses with his extended French family/fan club.

The Rolnicks and the Ferrics host an international summit.

Introducing the fifth Clisson: Kénny

Once again, Kenny opted not to sleep on the ride back to the hotel, and we all finally collapsed in a heap around midnight.

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.

kenny's parisian adventure - day 4: overboard's french connection

Thursday, May 8, 2008 – Paris

After our not-quite-relaxing night’s sleep, Kenny was kind enough to wake us up around 7:30am. We ordered our “usual” breakfast from downstairs and slowly got ourselves ready for the day. While we showered and prepped, Kenny munched away on a baguette covered in strawberry jam, contentedly watching French cartoons.


The French jam sugar rush kicks in! Wooo-hooooooo!

May 8 is VE Day (Victory in Europe), and it’s a national holiday in France. A lot of businesses were closed, but the streets were remarkably quiet. I guess a lot of people chose to celebrate their freedom by freely choosing to sleep in. Vive la liberté!

The plan was to go to the Musée Rodin, so we set out for the Eiffel Tower and the Champ de Mars. From there, we banged a left at the Ecole Militaire towards Les Invalides, which is just a block or so from the museum.


Overboard loved the "square trees" on the Champs de Mars.

The view from the south end of the Champs de Mars, in front of l'Ecole Militaire.

Along the way, Kenny decided that he had awoken too early this day, so he passed out in the stroller. Since it meant a lack of vampiric screams, we had no problem with this plan of attack. When he did wake up, we were in line outside of the museum, trying our best to keep the sun away from his sensitive skin.

Now, I have no idea exactly why the gentlemen at the museum proceeded to wave us in without charging us a single Euro, but I’d like to take this moment (again) to thank these kind, wonderful people. Merci. Here’s to a Free France and a free Rodin museum!

The museum consists of several buildings and an extensive garden, which is stunningly gorgeous. Kenny entertained everyone inside of one of the exhibits by singing, “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” at the top of his lungs. I think it complimented the artwork quite nicely, but I never took Art History in college, so what do I know?


The Rolnick family supports the arts. Especially the free ones.

"Alas, poor Rodin, I knew him well, Kennyratio."

Outside in the garden, Kenny took my hand and we followed Overboard as she admired the sculptures. We admired them as well, but also showed a great deal of love for the trees, rocks, dirt, grass and other nature items along the way. Eventually, Overboard went into another building to see a few things while Kenny pushed his stroller around the garden and I provided running NASCAR-style commentary.


Evenkeel and Kenny pose in front of their new summer home.

Before leaving for Pompidou Center (one of my favorite spots in Paris, no matter how touristy it may be), we thought about doing a pre-emptive diaper change, but then figured we’d just wait a bit longer. This was not the best decision ever. Not the worst, but not the best.

The original idea was to take the Metro from the museum to Pompidou, but this would require a series of changes, which generally did not prove to be popular with the under two set. So, instead, we decided we’d walk to a different stop near St. Germain des Pres and go from there. This, of course, turned into a lengthy walk through the city and across the Seine near part of the Louvre near the Ile de la Cite.

At some point along the way, I began to think we were a lot closer to our destination, so I figured we’d just forgo the Metro. Instead, we paraded on and I began scanning the scenery for potential lunch locations, as well as a place to change Kenny’s diaper.

Paris isn’t exactly family-friendly in the American sense of things. The restaurants don’t have high chairs and most restrooms not only don’t contain a changing table, but they’re barely big enough to hold one adult, no less an adult and a squirmy kid.

As we gradually became more and more frustrated in our inability to find a suitable place to change Kenny, we began to lower our standards. No bathroom with a changing table? No problem. How about a park bench? What? Can’t find one of those either? Seriously?

While Overboard attempted what turned out to be a futile search at a McDonald’s, I bought some more of those vendor baguette sandwiches.

When the two of them returned unsuccessful, and a bit peeved, we finally said “$%&@ it” and settled for a quiet piece of asphalt in a shopping district away from heavy traffic. We laid out a covering on the ground and made the big change without any fanfare, and only one curious dog coming by to check things out.

Afterwards, we had our lunch by a fountain, where we let Kenny run amok for a few minutes, and then headed the remaining two blocks to Pompidou Center.

Unfortunately, there were no good street performances taking place on the giant plaza in front of the building – one of the main reasons I love the joint. That and the people watching. Pompidou Center has provided me with some first-rate people watching in the past.

To counter the disappointing dearth of fire-eaters, glass walkers, chainsaw jugglers or sword swallowers, we went to the gelato stand across the street. This was quite popular with Overboard and Kenny. As was running up and down the small ramp at the tourist tchoke shop next to the gelato place. Almost as popular as running up and down the ramp was placing your hands on the ramp and then attempting to get said dirty hands into your mouth.


Kenny tries some gelato.

"Heyyyyy...when we goin' to Italy?"

Needing to head back to the hotel for naptime, we ditched the non-exciting locale for the ever-exciting Metro. All was proceeding normally during our ride, when Overboard spied something that made her none too pleased.

Now, I will preface this story by saying that I didn’t really notice anything unusual, but then again, I’m not always the most observant guy in the room. Or Metro car, as the case may be.

So, back to the story…

Overboard nudged me at one point and said that she saw three people signal each other with various hand signs, and the whole thing seemed highly suspicious. Being pretty subtle myself, I announced quite loudly, “Who signaled who? Where? Was it that guy? No? That guy? What about the woman over there?”

Glaring at me, Overboard whispered through gritted teeth that when we reached our stop (which happened to be next) she was going to hold the boy and move very quickly, and if I were smart, I would follow her and make sure we weren’t being followed in turn.

When the doors opened, true to her word, Overboard clutched Kenny tight to her chest and hustled away at speeds that reminded me of the videos you see at Christmastime when they open the stores early for the big sales and the people come pouring in, often times trampling each other in the process.

We weren’t followed onto our next train and made it back to the hotel “sans incidente.”

Relieved not to have been mugged or kidnapped, Kenny and Overboard took a two and a half hour nap. I took the opportunity to head down to the hotel garden to read and write.

After Agent 99 and son were done napping, we gave Kenny a bath and got ready to head over to the Clissons for dinner. They live in Neuilly-sur-Seine, which is Michelle’s old neighborhood, and after spotting a few memorable landmarks, I almost recognized where I was. Almost.

En route, we drove by an accident on the side of the road where a female motorcyclist had rammed into a car (or vice versa, it was a bit difficult to tell). The paramedics were helping the woman into a neck brace, and while Michelle clucked under her breath disapprovingly, I thought it was interesting to see that these crazy 2-wheeled lunatics did indeed pay a price from time to time for their ability to weave in and out of heavy traffic.

When we arrived at Chez Clisson, their two boys, Dorian (10) and Timothy (8) were playing outside with some neighbor friends. Upon seeing their “Mimi,” they became ecstatic. Honestly, I’m more surprised when people don’t react this way to seeing Michelle. Seriously.

Kenny was initially a bit shy; not sure of where he was or who he was surrounded by, but quickly warmed up to the boys and their plethora of toys. He was also very interested in Jean-Marie’s guitar, which, unlike his Daddy’s, was actually in tune.


Kenny the Gladiator checks out a room full of plunder, er, toys.

Kenny adds the perfect finishing touch to a portrait of Timothy and Dorian.

A friend of the boys’ was over, and she was a very precocious girl of 13 or so (is there another kind of teenage girl?). She was all too happy to grab the guitar and hammer out a few tunes. She actually had a pretty good voice and didn’t lack for confidence. Later, she would lead the boys in rounds of dress up. They paraded out in kung-fu outfits, Moroccan shirts and pants, and Halloween skeleton costumes. Kenny was amused by their evolving wardrobes, but was more engrossed in the toy train set they had set up for him in the living room.

When dinnertime rolled around, the kids ate at the coffee table in the living room. They all watched some bizarre Anime cartoon that Kenny found terribly engrossing. So engrossing, in fact, that he had little interest in actually eating dinner. The kids did their best to cajole him into taking bites of pasta and veal, and I think he ingested a bit just to get them out of the way. He was much more content to watch TV and the kids…but mostly TV. I am but so proud.

We also dined on veal and pasta, and I began to wonder if it was in season or just really popular in Paris these days. Overboard loves “tasty baby animals,” so we weren’t complaining.

The animated dinner conversation seamlessly moved from French to English and back again, and touched on all sorts of topics. By the time we were all done it was 11pm and Kenny had been up the entire time.


Our esteemed hosts: Pascale, Jean-Marie and Michelle.

I think it took about 15 or 16 seconds for him to pass out in the car on the way back to the hotel. While he dozed, we discussed the pros and cons of studying abroad and my own regrets over not having done so in college. Perhaps if I had I’d actually be fluent in French and not have to speak in the present tense all of the time.

[translated from French]:
MICHELLE: Do you wish you had come to Paris to study?
EVENKEEL: I am thinking yes. It is good for me to be in place to speak French. If I am doing this in college I think I speak French good now.

By the time Overboard and I finally passed out in bed it was around midnight. As parents, we’re not exactly night owls these days, so living on “European Time” was becoming quite an interesting, albeit exhausting, experience.