paris, week two

I shifted from traveling as a party of two to a member of a gang of nine. We were Americans on a holiday excursion and had no shame in broadcasting that fact in all manner of behavior. We romped through gardens in our Crayola colored coats. We videotaped on the metro and crowded around Michelle’s articulate and lengthy lectures (her art history major has now served at least one useful purpose) at museums.

Everyone gained some kilos thanks to Charles’ pastry runs every morning and Drew’s delicious dinners. We laughed at You Tube videos and scowled at Lisa winning Blokus at night. (That girl is unbeatable at virtually any board or card game. So annoying.) We never turned on the TV and had a minimalist Christmas with just a few bare bones presents under the tree. We snuggled under gigantic fur blankets and rocked on the cow-hide chair.

Dad was in “generous mode” all week, tossing out Euros like candy in a parade. Mom sipped her wine and us girls talked about our boyfriends, much to Alice’s chagrin. Crepes were a constant hand-warmer as we strolled down sidewalks, linking arms and jostling for space. Not one to use many superlatives, I can safely say that this was the best Smith Family Vacation Ever.