Dansons in Delaware

I want to blog about one my first French moments that happened before we even moved out of our 1st hotel room.

I went in search of Le Temple du Scrap, the scrapbook store in Paris. I ventured forth and was met with the strongest winds I have ever walked in. At certain points, I actually could not walk because I had to brace myself and the stroller against the wind. I have never walked through anything like that before. The next day, I hear on the news that a fierce winter storm had ripped through Europe and Paris was met with high velocity winds. OH yeah? Makes sense THE DAY AFTER. Should have watched the weather that day!

But I digress.

When I get to Le Temple du Scrap, I am elated to find out that 1.) I actually made it there by myself and 2.) it exists. So I get to the handle on the door and I pull and I pull and it just won't budge. So I check out the store hours and I notice that it is closed for lunch. But it's not lunch time so it should not be closed. So I look inside and I see people wandering around in there! So it MUST be open. So I try the handle again and it STILL won't budge. I stand there, sad and dejected. Lustily watching the people inside.

And a little African boy wanders by, sees my plight and stops. As I walk away, he gestures to me to follow him where he shows me the door to my lovely Le Temple du Scrap and proceeds to PUSH the door open for me. PUSH not PULL.

French lesson for everyone:

Tirez = Pull
Poussez = Push

And I don't want to hear any jokes about the "Far Side's" Midvale School for the Gifted.

P