Friday morning we walked up to a rather long line of other poor souls just trying to survive the paper work shuffle of France. However luck was on our side. As we were accepting our fate of serving our time in the rain and cold with the other expats, the security guard walked right up to us and escorted us to the front door, where our "girl" was waiting. As the uproar was beginning behind us, she said something to the tune of they have a baby and placed us safely and warming inside the doors.
I truly do not think I will every let Aidan out of that stroller.
Once inside Sabine, our helper, said, "I propose we go to window #9". To which I silently giggled, because once again, books have been centered around the "window". One book called window #4 the kiss of death window. They can and will say no for no apparent reason. It just depends on who you get and what kind of mood they are in.
Lucky again. Window #9 was just fine...
Little Miss even signed herself. She is 4! Such a proud moment.
If anyone wants to know what my mother, grandmother or aunt Tia might look like when they are pissed...I present to you...a snapshot...I Believe online shopping is harder than I thought.
I Believe I miss Starbucks drive thru.