In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines
Lived twelve little girls in two straight lines
In two straight lines they broke their bread
And brushed their teeth and went to bed.
They left the house at half past nine
In two straight lines in rain or shine-
The smallest one was Madeline.” ―
As far back as I can remember, this is where it began. My love affair with Paris started with this book. I dreamt about going to Paris, speaking French, riding a bicycle in a striped shirt, with a beret atop my head and a baguette under my hairy armpit. Well, maybe not that last part.
To say that I have been incredibly blessed with the opportunity to realize my dream would be an understatement, I have been to Paris a handful of times though my thirst will never be quenched. It will never be enough.
A few months ago ( it feels like longer) my husband and I were sitting in the Tuilerie gardens feeling jetlagged and exhausted after having been in Paris only one day and spending the majority of that time in the Louvre. We had just finished our jambon et fromage sandwiches in the park. I looked over at Matt to discuss what was next on the very specific agenda I created, prior to departure, to see him sleeping in the chair beside me.
This was my first visit to the city of love with my husband and he was sleeping. Just as I was about to flick his ear it dawned on me that that might not be so loving. So I sat there overlooking the flowers, reaching their heads to the bright, warm sun, with the Louvre in the background, enjoying a sleepy moment in Paris and a break from the minute by minute agenda.