It all began on Friday afternoon, when my dear man sent a photo of where he would be filming for the weekend.
My immediate response was total and utter awe. The little ones, on the other hand, had different thoughts.
“Woooow! How come we didn’t get to go with Daddy?”
“How come it never snows here?”
When my little guy looked up at me with wide eyes and said, “I wish we had snow…” there was such sadness in his voice that it broke my heart. That very same night, the snow began to fall and I prayed that it would last until morning. Thank goodness, some wishes do indeed come true!
Finally… Paris is covered in a blanket of snow! This is something that I, as well as my little ones, have been dreaming about for years. I’m not talking about a few fluttering flakes that disappear an hour later or by morning’s light. What I am talking about is the kind of snow that actually lasts, turning an already magical city into something truly breathtaking.
In the early morning, one couldn’t help but notice that everything was at a standstill. The roads had not been cleared, causing the cars to move at a snail’s pace. My daughter’s harp lesson was cancelled, of which we only learned upon arrival. As we walked into the conservatory, the secretary saw us and said, “Didn’t you get the message?”
“I left you a message on your mobile around 11:10. Your daughter’s teacher can’t make it in today.”
“Ummmmm… no, I didn’t get the message. You do realize that the class starts at 11:30 and it takes over 30 minutes to get here… we were already in the metro by then.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said nonchalantly.
Efficiency, at it’s finest! The New Yorker in me wanted to say so much more about how we dragged ourselves over there when of course my health is not 100%, paid the metro tickets, etc. but I decided shake it off and be cool. I’ve actually become quite good at that since I moved here. Besides, even if I did say something, I’ve learned it wouldn’t have changed anything and I don’t think she would have cared either way.
The kids were actually glad to hear that class was cancelled. I’m sure they were imagining a day in the snow. There was indeed snow a nice covering, however, I kept thinking of all of those incredible snow storms from New York where the snow had reached thigh high levels. Now that was something! I couldn’t help but give a little chuckle thinking about how all of my New York friends would be laughing if they could see how everything stopped after just a few inches of snow. Then, I thought about it some more and smiled. I actually liked the fact that everything had slowed down. It was almost like something out of an old film… I loved the calmness of a usually busy place.
I looked at the little ones, one with sneakers the other in rain boots. Us so called ‘Parisians’ aren’t used to getting snow… thus we’ve left all of our snow equipment at the in-laws who live in the mountains. Rather than move things back and forth for no reason, it seemed more than reasonable to leave everything there. Result?
“Let’s go buy some snow boots so you can play in the snow!” Their screams of joy could probably be heard throughout the city. We walked to the closest shop to buy boots for the little ones.
As we walked, I kept telling the little ones to be careful where they were stepping so as not to get their sneakers too wet or snow in their boots. Have you ever tried saying something like that to little ones who’ve rarely seen snow? Don’t bother; it’s pointless and you can’t really blame them. Even I wanted to run and jump in the snow.
When we arrived at the shoe store, it was packed! Apparently, I wasn’t the only one buying boots for their little ones. A sales woman asked what size the children were, so I told her the size we had purchased just a few months earlier. She tried that size on their feet, and couldn’t get their foot into the shoe. She tried the next size up and made a huge frustrated sigh. Then, she looked at me as if I was crazy. She picked up their old shoes to verify that I had indeed told her the right size and sighed again. Oh my, aren’t we in a good mood? You’d think she would be happy with all of the business they were getting, but apparently she was not the happy camper, so to speak.
As the sales girl kept trying on bigger and bigger sizes she said, “Well, it’s normal they can’t get their feet into the shoes! Their socks are soaking wet!”
I kind of chuckled, thinking that I was no longer up for that Mother of the Year award. At the same time, if I had snow boots I wouldn’t be there. What did she think would happen when kids walk in sneakers in the snow? I looked at the owner and asked if she sold socks. She was a lot nicer and said, ” We don’t sell socks. I do, however, have a box of new socks in the back for such occasions. I’ll give them to you, free of charge.” Perhaps this was a peace-offering after witnessing her obnoxious sales woman? I thanked her for her kindness.
When my son handed me his wet socks, I had another little giggle. Oh yeah, definitely out of the running for Mother of the Year! They were indeed soaking wet… had I squeezed water would have gone pouring down!
After a little more time, both children finally found boots they liked. Actually, they took the first pair that fit them. Personally, I think they would have loved just about any boot in any color, size, shape and form since it meant going out to play in the snow. They walked out of the store with huge smiles.
We headed straight to the park, for some fun in the snow, followed by hot chocolate and crêpes. Then, we played a few more hours in the snow before heading back home.
What a truly lovely Saturday in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and it’s even more beautiful when covered in a blanket of snow.