Special message to Monsieur Nord
Mr North got on a plane and crossed the frontiers to see me. It was cold, raining cats and dogs (nearly cows).
My nose was red, my cheeks purple, my eyes were crying in the frozen wind, to put it briefly, I looked like crap.
At home, my daughter was sick and puked, puked, puked… I was awfully worried.
The Eiffel Tower was under siege, no way to climb.
The Champs Elysées were flooded with rain and Japanese tourists.
The restaurant I chose wasn’t a good idea, Mr North doesn’t like “fruits de mer”.
Still, I had a great time, and we parted singing “Thank heaven for little girls” with the appropriate Maurice’s accent, in the taxi taking him back to his hotel.
Still, I had a great time, and we parted singing “Thank heaven for little girls” with the appropriate Maurice’s accent, in the taxi taking him back to his hotel.
He says he’s coming back in spring.
I hope April in Paris won’t be a disaster.
Chestnuts in blossom, holiday tables under the trees and the whole shebang could be a terrible turn down !
Anyway… I’ll be happy to see him again !
Without boys what would little girls do ?
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