Friday's I've got far to go, Toronto, Montreal, Paris

I knew it was going to be a crazy day the minute I saw the alarm clock. I'd slept-in, again. I'm out the door in 10 minutes, commute to work, crank out till 1:30, commute to home, pack and go, Usually I take the bus and subway to train, this time a cab, traffic jam, arrive Union Station 3:04, Train 64 leaves at 3:10, arrive Montreal, commute à la maison, eat, bedtime story and lights out for the wee one.

Right now her favorite book is by an American Immigrant Belgian Cowboy with a German sounding name and French as a first language: he was quite the character that Ludwig Bemelmans.

The Wee One and I read a book together; I start and she rhymes;

“In an old house in Paris all covered in …”
“Wines” (It makes me chuckle every time)
“Lived 12 little girls in two straight
“Lines”
“1n two straight"
" lines dey bwoke dere bwead and when do bed””
“don’t they brush their…”
“teet”
“That’s right“

“They left the house at half past nine in two straight
“lines”
“in rain or….. or….
“shine?”
“Yes shine, the smallest one was”
“Madelène!”

Given the wee ones level headedness to all of the upheaval in her life over the last two years I’m both surprised and chagrined that she has the following section almost down pat.

“In the middle of one night, Miss” I start.
“Clavel turned her light, Something is not right!"” The wee one jumps in to finish.

About 20 minutes later she’s asleep and sometimes so am I.

It’s no wonder Pace and I sometimes don’t seem to see one another very much on the weekend.