fairies and footballers
Today, I'm proud to be heading out with the kids.
The little boy is dressed head to toe in France football gear, in the name of tonight's game, and the little girl is dolled up as a fairy for a birthday party. We're all smiling.
This week bad luck came to me in waves. It started with the painter working in our building again. He politely ignored me, but knowing he was there made me sick to my stomach. Then a finger infection, my period, my room so hot I couldn't sleep, no money in my bank account, no money on my phone, two extra kids to take care of, and my whole body and mind feeling ready to collapse.
But things have gone for the better. Running down the stairs I see that the painter has been replaced with two lovely black men. They flash me big smiles, and suddenly all feels well in the world.
Today everyone is smiling-other than a few minor tantrums-because tonight France plays Portugal in the world cup. In honor of the game I'm helping the father pull off a football party at the apartment tonight. Twelve kids and five adults will join us for a dessert buffet, hors d'oeuvres, a contest to guess who wins and champagne.
I didn't even mind pushing a monster of a grocery cart at 10 this morning-filled with ice cream, pop, candy, smoked salmon and other goods- about four blocks to the apartment, because I love parties. I love the preparation, the food, the people and the mood.
And as if things couldn't get any better, the girl is off at a birthday party, the boy is at a play date, and I have a moment to myself.
But now I better go practice chanting "Allez les bleus!" And clean up the apartment.
May the best team win. (Like I'll care, with champagne and a dessert buffet.)
The little boy is dressed head to toe in France football gear, in the name of tonight's game, and the little girl is dolled up as a fairy for a birthday party. We're all smiling.
This week bad luck came to me in waves. It started with the painter working in our building again. He politely ignored me, but knowing he was there made me sick to my stomach. Then a finger infection, my period, my room so hot I couldn't sleep, no money in my bank account, no money on my phone, two extra kids to take care of, and my whole body and mind feeling ready to collapse.
But things have gone for the better. Running down the stairs I see that the painter has been replaced with two lovely black men. They flash me big smiles, and suddenly all feels well in the world.
Today everyone is smiling-other than a few minor tantrums-because tonight France plays Portugal in the world cup. In honor of the game I'm helping the father pull off a football party at the apartment tonight. Twelve kids and five adults will join us for a dessert buffet, hors d'oeuvres, a contest to guess who wins and champagne.
I didn't even mind pushing a monster of a grocery cart at 10 this morning-filled with ice cream, pop, candy, smoked salmon and other goods- about four blocks to the apartment, because I love parties. I love the preparation, the food, the people and the mood.
And as if things couldn't get any better, the girl is off at a birthday party, the boy is at a play date, and I have a moment to myself.
But now I better go practice chanting "Allez les bleus!" And clean up the apartment.
May the best team win. (Like I'll care, with champagne and a dessert buffet.)
posted by Gillian Young at 6:57 AM
2 Comments:
As though it weren't hard enough to leave Paris this week and come home, I had to sit and watch the game thinking of how much fun my friends were having across the sea.
Hope the party went well.
On est en finale ! On est en finale !
:)
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