Coming Home

Our journey home from Paris was not nearly as adventurous as my first time around in 2005 (short version of that story: It involved getting on the wrong train, then stopping at the wrong terminal, then riding the shuttle bus around a few times, then waiting at the wrong desk, then thinking for an hour and a half that I'd miss my plane, then very slowly making my way through security, then running to my terminal, then bursting through a door that was "secure" and being reprimanded, then (full of relief) sitting down on the plane and traveling without incident to Heathrow airport in London--which was wonderful and clean and organized--and then again without incident to JFK in New York.... and then the fun really began with a botched attempt to use a buddy pass which ended with me flying to Vegas instead and riding in a car to Utah with two complete strangers who thankfully did me no harm...) but Charles De Gaulle airport still caused some stress as we tried to fly back to the US...

We left in plenty of time to arrive at the airport two hours before our flight. We made a short stop at a boulangerie to use up our last cash (the worker thought it hilarious that we bought 10 baguettes and asked her to wrap them for travel, then watched as we stuffed them into our suitcases and carry-on bags...) We still had plenty of time and we hopped on the Metro and then got on the right train and got off at the right terminal, but went to the wrong area, which was on the opposite side of the terminal... so we ran (panting) back to the right place and got in line in front of an extremely drunk woman who really wanted to make conversation. There were several workers for our airline, but only four were checking in people for our flight.... the line moved SOOO slowly... and we were finally getting through security and we heard them call over the intercom "Last call for flight...." and we realized it was our flight, so when the security agent told me I had to stop at the next person for a more thorough search (I'm guessing that's what he said, it was in French) I just pretended I didn't understand and grabbed my bags and ran for it. It was all smooth sailing from there (except for the fact that Ryan and I didn't get to sit by each other for the whole 8 hour flight to New York).

We were so excited to see our kids and Ryan's dad picked us up from the airport. The kids had a fabulous time with Bruce and Terri while we were gone, but we were all happy to be back together. Bruce was good enough to drive us around New York City for a bit until we had to get to the other airport... Ryan got dropped off at the New York office (where I spent the night on my way TO Paris in 2005 when I got stranded on the street outside of my brother's apartment... different story for a different day) and the kids and I went to Battery Park so the kids could see the Statue of Liberty. It was pretty foggy but we could faintly see the Statue of Liberty in the background.

You can't even see it in this picture, but it's back there somewhere. Olivia is holding her Flat Stanley (a school project which traveled all over the country--from Utah to Connecticut to Utah to Washington to Utah to San Diego to Connecticut again and even to Paris (by proxy)... big huge thanks to Grandma and Grandpa Harper, Traci and family, Grandpa Cole and Heather for your help with Stanley).

There were several artists in Battery Park offering to draw caricatures for only $5. We resisted in the beginning, but then the kids and I were convinced that we needed to have a drawing of us in New York City to remember our brief time there. We walked toward one of the artists (none of which spoke English very well) and he said, "I draw, $5." I asked if it was all three for $5 and he smiled and nodded. He asked if we just wanted cartoons or if we wanted the sketch... I clearly said, "Just the cartoon, just the $5 picture." We sat on this bench and he began to sketch. For five bucks I expected a quick cartoon-like drawing, but it was taking a really long time... he finally finished Olivia's picture and moved on to mine... then did Coleman... all the while I was thinking what a great deal we were getting and my heart was full of compassion for him. I imagined a wife and children in a cramped apartment and him trying to support his little family with meager earnings of an artist. As he was finishing I pulled out two five-dollar bills, thinking we'd give him a great tip for his time. We walked over to his station and he said, "$20." I told him he had told us only $5 for all three... and he shook his head and acted like I was trying to rip him off. Then he pulled out a cardboard to put it on... he said, "This for only $20 more..." at which point I was furious and fuming. I didn't want to cheat him, so I handed over the $20 and he tried to talk us into the cardboard... he wouldn't even put another paper on top of it to keep it from smudging.... so he rolled it up and taped it together and I gathered what very little pride I had left and walked off with my children now imagining him going home to his wife, laughing, and telling him of the way he had swindled this stupid tourist out of twenty bucks... I should have known better...

When Ryan saw it he laughed and said it doesn't even look like us. You'll notice that it was flattened in my carry on bag, so there are creases in the drawing. A great investment, no?


**Do you get stressed in airports?
**Are you ever swindled out of money?
**So what do you think--does the drawing look like us? Was it worth $20 and my pride?