Day Nine: Letting Them Eat Cake

Today, I let these people have their way, mostly. Samantha requested a return visit to her rock climbing playground near Invalides so we headed there first. On the way, we played some shadow games:

Eliza tells me she likes to walk in my shadow. And then I like to tell her that she is the wind beneath my wings:

 Walking along "Les Berges"

Samantha did the course at least a dozen times:

 Eliza had a few turns as well:

Arrrr mateys! I found some pirates! Samantha only has one standard pirate face but Eliza really has quite a range:

Next, it was Eliza's turn to pick our activity. Since we have to wait for Kenny to get back before we make our big ascent, Eliza had to settle for the underneath view:

 She quite literally soaked it in:

No matter how many times I see the Eiffel Tower up close, it really doesn't get any less impressive. Truly breathtaking.

On the way to the metro we found an Asian restaurant and per Eliza's request, we had lunch:

Then Samantha requested to be the leader and did a fine job of getting us home:

 Compulsory photo:

 We stopped by our local bakery for some treats which the girls thoroughly enjoyed:

I myself consumed the largest palmier I have ever seen; but since I ate it in small pieces it was actually much less fattening.

A bit later, we headed out toward our favorite park in the Marais. On our street, we paused to watch this woman paint:

 Then the girls played statue:

 Once we arrived at the park, I grabbed a bench and took out my book. The man seated next to me was actually writing, pen on paper, with the loveliest handwriting I have ever seen:

Only moments later, his gorgeous pages fell victim to the water gun spray of some raucous boys. Their father chastised them and they apologized to the old man, who smiled and said "no problem." I hope I'm that graceful at that age.

After reading for awhile, I looked up to catch this scene:

Yes, that is a French girl pushing my lazy American daughters who could only summon the strength to say "Push harder!" I told them they were not helping our image abroad and located the furthest bench I could find so as not to be associated with them:

Not ten minutes later I look up to see that the young girl is gone, and now it is a French grandmother hunched over, pushing my girls:

She looks exhausted:

And yes, I continued reading. When it was time to go, I found Samantha had assumed a rather dictatorial position over the playground folk:

 

After our shameful appearance at the park, we walked through Rue des Rosiers, once filled with Jewish shops, delis, etc.. There are still a few, but it is not as it used to be:

Although Dan Snyder appears to have purchased real estate here so maybe a new crop of Jews will reinvigorate the place:

One of the best parts of the trip so far: my girls will stop me to point out things that I never would've noticed otherwise. For example, Eliza stopped to show me these "little watermelons":

 

In reality they are gooseberries, but I think it's sweeter to think of them her way.