The New Beast.

About every 6 weeks, I try to take one of the children to The Big City, you know, a little one on one time. Today was The Boy´s turn, mostly because he is growing so quickly that he only has one pair of jeans that fit him. I do believe that those jeans could walk alone and conquer a small country.

He also told me that he wanted to start using perfume. I told him that men do not use perfume, they use cologne.

Actually, it is called Toilet Water, but in French, and I have had a cursed time this week with French. Attempting to make small talk with our neighbor, who is an artist, I was asking if his new place would have an at, at, at, at, simply could not pronounce the French word for an artist´s studio. I felt like a blubbering idiot. I also cannot pronounce the Dutch adjective for vegetarian.

We spoke with his Fashion adviser, aka The Girl, and she recommended both a new clothing store for him and two brands of cologne that he might like.

Like all teenagers, he slept forever this morning, and so we had a late start. We went to the store The Fashion adviser recommended and he LOVED it. We were the only ones in the store, the music was too funky for words, and the totally cool young men working there were treating him like a visiting Saudi prince.

I insisted that he try on the clothing first, as every manufacturer has different specs. I had to hold the curtain shut for him as he tried on various items. And then one young man gave him fashion advice, try this shirt with the pants and zipper up light weight jacket. No, try it in a smaller size.

The Boy is so pleased with this outfit. He is wearing it now, as he visits Opa in the Hospital.

Then the perfume stores, two outlets of IC Paris. Tell me, why do the French bother with the s. He did not like the Hugo Boss at all. At the larger store, a charming young woman sprayed about 6 different Armani fragrances on small paper wafers for him to sniff and we bought the smallest bottle there.

I had to sniff The Boy about 4 times before he left this evening.

At yet another store, as we were paying, the girl at the register actually asked The Boy if he was The Girls´s brother. While the two girls look like clones, The Boy does not resemble them at all. Big City, small world.

Any trip to The Big City must include lunch at Mickey D´s, and I scarfed down a Big Old Mac in about 3 minutes. We had been walking for over 3 hours and I was simply starving and I do not feel guilty at all.

Next week, The Baby goes to The Big City. She as well is growing like a weed, thank God, and also needs more clothing. While I often say that I am the same height as Napoleon, I do not wish my height, read 5 foot 2, upon anyone.

It was a good and fine day. The Boy and I had a lot of laughs, including one about him being just like The Girl, a shop until you drop person.

And he agreed !

Today The Boy asked me this question : if one is born blind, what are your dreams like.

I haven’t a clue, but can only think of the old saw, if a tree falls in the forest, and there is no one to hear it, does it make a sound.

But his question haunts me, for indeed we all dream, and so I wonder about the dreams of someone who is blind.