Frantic in France

Yesterday I got a surprise in the mail - my prize package from Rebecca Ramsey’s Wonders of the World Blog Party! I’m diving into French cookies, French chocolates, and best of all - her delightful book, French by Heart.

I thought about the last time I went to France. We were lucky and crazy enough to take our kids to Paris when my daughter was six and my son was almost three. Of course we had to visit the Louvre and pay our respects to Mona. It was very crowded that day and security was being thorough about checking belongings.

After a long wait with two wiggly kids, we maneuvered through the swarming lobby up a small flight of stairs to inspect a map on the wall. My daughter was the first to point out a rather important detail:

Baby brother was nowhere to be found.

Instantly I became the hysterical foreign woman in the museum lobby. So surreal was the moment, I remember it as though I’m viewing myself from outside, a woman in a red checkered dress becoming completely unglued.

My husband glimpsed a blonde wisp of hair traveling toward the door and took off like a shot. He didn’t have the chance to clue me in, so I just kept yelling for my baby. Finally a girl about nine years old with the face of an angel smiled at me and pointed toward the door.

By the time my husband caught up with him, my creative toddler had made it all the way out to the street with an enormous book from the gift shop. He had picked it up because he wanted to show us the pretty picture. We returned the book and only later wondered why we hadn’t purchased it for a souvenir.

With all the tight security by the door, I’m still amazed no one noticed a little blond boy slip out with an armload of merchandise. My son must be one of the few people on the planet who can boast that he stole something from the Louvre. There in the picture is the little culprit - returning to the scene.