DP and I were seated near this little princess at the Café du Marché in Paris. She was at the cafe with three women, all of whom doted on her. This tiny Parisian princess was included in the womens’ conversation and also amused herself, for long intervals, with the drinking of her hot chocolate and by talking on her pink cell phone which, when opened, doubled as a mirror and palette of eye shadows for little girls.
This our third year in Europe and I still feel moved by how demonstrative European parents are towards their children and those of their friends and family members. There is an abundance of kisses and hugs and licorice in pink and white striped paper bags and big steaming cups of chocolate. Parents and grandparents routinely take their children to museums and bookstores; they bundle them up for rides on carousels and ponies at the Tuileries Gardens. The flourishing of small, independent toy stores is another testament to the careful cultivation of childhood. These tiny toy stores are exquisitely cramped and magical, filled with wooden toys and hand puppets from the past.
Being a kid in Europe seems like a pretty good gig. Especially for this little girl in Paris.
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