Parenting Lessons From a 26-year-old French Dude
It's all full-frontal in Paris
Home again after our mid-winter jaunt to London and Paris and it will be months before I can look at a wheel of brie with the ol’ lust and luster I used to.
I was going through all our pictures and kind of bummed I missed getting photos of some key landmarks. Maybe I was too busy living in the moment or some hokey BS like that. But then upon closer examination of one of my son’s favorite pics, I noticed I did get a shot of a key landmark! That’s Buckingham Palace behind the lion statue’s butt! Not sure how I missed it before.
Overall, it was a great trip and the child handled it like a champ. He was oddly compliant and calm and open to trying new things. He almost put butter on his bread!
We brought a lot of mementos home, but my favorite souvenir was one we did not purchase. It was a letter from Julien (working title for my new, not-yet-written novel) taped to the door of our rented apartment.
Julien was the upstairs neighbor who was hosting a party Saturday night to celebrate his 26th birthday. He was writing to preemptively apologize for the late-night music and revelry. Too bad we were leaving Saturday morning otherwise we would have absolutely crashed it
We never met him, but we talked about this Julien dude and his party a lot. What do 26 year-old French people do at parties? Who was invited? Would there be gifts? What snacks would Julien provide? A pungent, soft cheese and some moderately priced crackers? Perhaps a tapenade to go with a nice, crusty baguette?1 He will have a couple bottles of his favorite wine which he and his guests will sip while listening to Julien’s small, but well-curated, vinyl collection. They will focus on conversation and fêting their beloved friend rather than getting shitfaced on Costco vodka and stuffing their faces with Trader Joe’s pimento cheese dip and honestly this party sounds LAME! LOSERS! I'm glad I wasn’t invited!
The child wanted to get Julien a gift or at least a card in which we could wish him a happy birthday and also ask him why he stomps around so much in such a tiny apartment. In any case, Julien had a decent home in a lovely part of Paris (Île Saint-Louis) so he’s probably doing just fine. Happy Birthday, Julien. J'espère que votre fête a été un grand succès!2
Now that we’re home and I’ve had Google translate Julien’s letter sixteen more times, I’m beginning to think his note wasn’t just a passive aggressive attempt to ensure we didn't call in a noise complaint. This young, presumably childless, French dude’s message was a gift from the universe and was rife with key learnings about traveling with jeunes enfants. Or maybe I’m just really jet lagged. In any case, I’m passing Julien’s travel lessons on to you.
Travel Lesson from Julien #1: Treat Yourselves!
Julien was throwing himself a birthday party! Good for you, J-boy! Make it splashy! Traveling is a wonderful time to treat yourself be it a fancy dinner, a visit to your favorite park, or a suitcase full of Brownie-style Lion bars. Our family loves Paddington Bear and were delighted to explore his old stomping grounds. At a souvenir shop near Big Ben, I saw a wall of stuffed Paddington’s and demanded we stop IMMEDIATELY to buy one even though we all had to pee and were being tailed by a large, hangry group of mid-westerners presumably heading to the same pub we were.
“Who knows where we’ll be able to buy one again!?!” I shouted as I ripped 1 of 692 bears off its peg and ran to the cash register.
The answer: literally anywhere that sells literally anything. At at Tube station. At a grocery store. You can even find Paddington at a currency exchange kiosk. Turns out he’s kind of a big deal in London. Every time we passed a store, my family would stage whisper David Attenborough-style, “Look! An elusive floppy-hatted, pea-coat wearing fuzzy bear sighting! These are VERY RARE indeed!”
Oh, ha. To that I say, karma is an unpasteurized hunk of cheese.
Know who returned from a week in Europe with nothing but a €27 bag of tiny Toblerone’s purchased at the Paris airport gift shop for his coworkers? Poor Bart was struck with a terrible bout of food poisoning the day before our departure and was too sick to visit all the bespoke chocolatiers and art shops in our neighborhood he kept putting off. So I did what any compassionate, caring wife would do: resold him my Paddington for 60 pounds and threw in a Lion bar. So yes, treat yourself often and most definitely early!
Travel Lesson from Julien #2: Teach Kids About Customs in Other Countries:
Perhaps it is customary to leave your neighbors a note telling them about the super fun party they’re not invited to. But in this case, I’m not talking about those kinds of “customs” (although that’s good too!) I’m talking about “customs” as in the the official department that administers and collects the duties levied by a government on imported goods. It’s important to teach children to STFU when these nice officers are talking to your parents.
When asked what we purchased during our trip abroad, the normally-tentative-and-reserved-around-strange-adults-child pipped right up and ran through a list of all the items in our suitcase. The hell?
“A few paintings from a guy on the riverbank near Tower Bridge, a Golden State Warriors mini basketball hoop, Jason Tatum t-shirt for my best friend, lots of candy bars, some fancy honey, a wine opener shaped like the Eiffel Tower for the neighbor who brought our garbage cans to the curb, dad’s athlete’s foot spray, a Mbappe jersey, lots of French Pokemon cards…”
Okay, we didn’t exactly go overboard and it’s not like I was smuggling a sheep and leg of prosciutto in my roller bag, but what if we did? I’m still not 100% clear on what you’re supposed to declare and what can send you to airport jail and what’s the difference is between “buying” and “smuggling” anyway? Should I have read that little card the Delta flight attendant handed me before landing? Probably. But letting your suddenly talkative kid know who will field those pesky general questions levied by government officials is a best practice.
Travel Lesson from Julien #3: Art is (Sex) Educational!
Julien specifically called out the music as a potential nuisance at his party and music is ART! Way to blast that culture right through your worn parquet floors, Julien! London and Paris are filled with opportunities for kids to appreciate beautiful art in all mediums. London’s preferred medium was in the modest form of “butts and nuts”, but The City of Light was a full frontal feast for the tween peepers.
The child requested a viewing with the Mona Lisa, which was odd because she’s not a YouTuber or an NBA player. But naturally we obliged because CULTURE and spent a lovely 45 minutes touring the world’s most famous museum to view one of the world’s most famous paintings from thirty-five feet away.
The child’s review: “Huh.”
But the road to and from Ms. Mona proved to be much more visually appealing. It wasn’t just butts and nuts this time. Some of the statues didn’t have heads or a right arm, but they definitely had other parts. There were pairs of voluptuous marble boobs and towering male and female genitalia. Nipples on canvas, nipples on stone, nipples on panels, nipples on bone3. This was better than Seattle Public School’s sex ed program! Look there, kid. That’s where the ovaries are. Or maybe that’s an appendix. But still.
The child’s review: “Wow!”
He was slightly embarrassed for Baby Jesus who appeared in almost every painting sprawled across his mother’s lap, letting it all hang out, until we pointed out there were several baby pics of him in the exact same poses.
The child’s review: “That’s gross.”
Travel Lesson From Julien #4: Don’t Worry—Kids Will Eat Something:
Julien lived mere seconds away from some of the most delicious and well-stocked bakeries and fromageries. I’m sure his guests ate quite well and you probably will too on your journey. Your kids on the other hand may need a few more years before their international palate fully develops. But fear not: you’re never far from the Golden Arches. The child ate at least one of his meals at McDonald’s 4 out of our 8 days. I mean, it wasn’t spaghetti carbonara or escargot, but they do in fact have different offerings in different countries, including an impressive array of vegetarian and vegan offerings! Insisting the child read everything on the menu was basically school. Being able to pontificate about the preparation and presentation of Chicken McNuggets around the world is how one becomes a citizen of the world.
Travel Lesson From Julien #5: Broaden Those Horizons:
If our son took one thing from this trip I hoped it was an acknowledgement of how big the world really is. (And an appreciation for British candy bars.) We never met Julien, but he’s become a global ambassador representing new cultures and the promise of adventures to come. For real, you guys. I got this from one little letter.
When asked what he thought of his mid-winter vacation, the child answered, “I can’t believe all of that just…happens.”
NAILED IT!
Can we spend the rest of our days doing candy bar tastes tests? Yes, at least for the next 937 days.
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Working title for my not-yet-written memoir.
Hope your party was a rocking success! Merci, Google translator!
This may not be true but I did need a word that rhymed with stone. Poetry is ART. There are no rules, okay?
"Nipples on canvas, nipples on stone, nipples on panels, nipples on bone." I thought you were quoting a passage from "Dr. Seuss After Dark" for a second. In a perfect world, a Parisian reader stumbles across this, knows Julien, and in a year you're reporting to us from his next birthday party.
The “butts and nuts” theme is brilliant. I have an 11 y/o boy and all he talks about are balls and farts and I am going to frame everything in a “butts and nuts” perspective from now on. Guaranteed engagement. Love it!