We went on a trek to the Petit Bateau shop near the Bon Marché because we really like the basics from that brand, and on the way home we walked past what passes for a square/park in Paris (a few hundred square feet of concrete with a couple of bushes).
What my feeble and short-sighted mind failed to grasp was the presence, in the middle of the square, of a playground.
Despite it not being visible from the road (at least when you’re more than 3 feet tall), V was all aflutter as soon as we were within range.
“Park! Park! Park!”
Given her elaborate and well-reasoned arguments, we agreed to stop so she could play.
It was a pretty decent playground, with the bigger version of the climbing frame she had played with the day before. It said, “Age range 3 to 7,” on the side of the frame, but this two year old was having none of it and climbed the ladder to get to the top of the slide with an agility that would have put Spider-Man to shame.
Surrounding the playground on every bench and horizontal surface were teenagers in varying degrees of elegance, certainly from a local school. Our position in the middle of the space gave us an interesting vantage point from which to witness the various cliques and clubs that comprised the student body. It was the second time this weekend that a playground moment had made me think of Gossip Girl.
Not that I admit to ever having watched that show. Obviously.