Yes, you read that title correctly, and I’ll get to that later. First let me say that I have the best family and most understanding husband on the planet. Hands down. Not even the Von Trapps or the Osbournes or the Obamas could come close to their awesomity.
Why? Because even after a whirlwind week spent touring London and Paris, with four children crashing in my apartment and 3 failed attempts to climb the Eiffel Tower, we’re still speaking to each other. I think we might even still enjoy each other’s company. Maybe.
But the point is, we survived! And we certainly covered a lot of ground. Louvre? Check. Steak frites? Check. Getting ripped off by street artists and paying $10 for a soda? Check and check. I could go on and on about all the magical details of this epic cultural journey, but I don’t want to make anyone too jealous. So here are the highlights:
Day 1, London: Jen and Husband enjoy a day at the Tate Modern and a lovely indian food dinner.
Night 1, London: Jen gets violent case of food poisoning, sharts in pajamas, spends night on hotel bathroom floor.
Day 3, Paris: Family accosted by flock of gypsy women at train station.
Day 4: Attempt to get to the top of Eiffel, but line is too long. Attempt to go to Louvre, but it’s closed. Attempt Eiffel again and get caught in a monsoon hail storm with no umbrellas.
Day 6: Wait in line for Eiffel for 2 hours, only to have the elevator break right when we get ready to go up.
Day 7: Bro-in-law steps in dog poo. Twice. Decides he hates the French.
Last day: Family sprints toward the Air France airport bus with just a little too much spring in their step.
See! Our family bond is so strong that not even explosive gastrointestinal distress could tear us apart. Or maybe it’s just the power of wine and chocolate croissants that held us together. Either way, the mutual feelings of love and the excitement of being back together in this beautiful city were just incroyable. I’m sure they can’t wait to do it again. Right guys? Right?
Unlikely Diplomat 
SHART?! I love it! You are too much 🙂 I can’t wait for the post that comes after spending a day with girlies!
I think that with 4 children AND 4 adults AND two destinations AND the fact that they are international , the odds are against you statistically. Somebody is DEFINITELY going to puke, shart, visit the emergency room, miss a flight, get robbed, or get sold into slavery. It sounds like you guys got off easy.
When–if–my family ever visits, I expect a full-blown catastrophe worthy of the title “international incident.” Like Amanda Knox style. Or Elian.
Oh Dylan, I was *this* close to selling some kids into slavery….
KJ – was “shart” to much for the internets? It was pretty horrific. The most sick I’ve ever been in my life. I figured the least I could do was get a laugh out of it!
Ohhhhh sharting, the worst of the worst! I have been there before my friend (happened to me one college morning at a Taco Bell, never have I thrown away a jean skirt so quickly!). Glad to hear the family is well and travels with the family were actually enjoyable.
I love how you managed to work in shart(ing) into your blog. Ask Stina about it….she has a good one about her infamous shart.
I just realized I outted Stina……just saw her comment above mine. HAHAHA
And here I was, not even a month ago, saying you seemed so grown up, living this glamorous life. Note, glamorous lives and sharting are somewhat inconsistent.
Vic, we all knew it was Stina. I mean, come on.
I love that she really tried to be anonymous though…and Madhu, it is called the UNLIKELY diplomat for a reason. The veneer of glam is thin indeed 😉
[…] Anywho, the best part was at the end of the urban greenery, where they had set up what was something akin to a county fair. There were no rides or fried snickers to be had, but stall after stall of France’s best agricultural delights. We stopped for just-pressed apple cider, tasted fresh milk, noshed on grilled steak and baguette sandwiches. We drank some artisan beers and watched a butchery demonstration. Then of course I had to try some freshly shucked oysters and a glass of wine . (A bold move on a hot day in May, but I’m happy to say there were no London flashbacks) […]
[…] said I shouldn’t repeat it. And since this here is a family-friendly blog (except for the sharts), I’ll restrain myself. I’ll just tell you that it literally translates into […]
[…] excited to spend some QT with him, and hope this trip goes a little more smoothly than the last time my family was here. I’ll be sure let you know how fast he sprints toward the Air France airport shuttle next […]
[…] But you may have the sharts […]
[…] And let’s not forget the informative pieces on pictogram ovens, boob vocabulary and most importantly, sharts. […]
[…] the seas were angry that day, my friends. It wasn’t quite a London situation, but I did spend a good part of the morning curled up in the fetal position, sipping ginger-ale. I […]