My daughter came up to me today and told me that she was taking me to Paris!
I was overjoyed, I was thrilled… Until I remembered that she is three.
Every time an airplane flies overhead, she yells: “Mommy Airplane!” and I always reply: “It’s going to Paris!”.
Ironically, she has already been to Paris (much to my husband’s dismay, he of the set who have never been there.) She was a tiny bean in my belly when I last went, with my mother. It was a birthday present in 2008 from my Mom. I was a little bit afraid to go, what with having already suffered two miscarriages but I knew that if I missed the trip, I’d regret it.
It was a wonderful week, albeit devoid of wine and cheese, and I hope that I can one day share a similar experience with her. Just not yet.