A few years back Max and I spent a week in Paris with my family, celebrating my Mom's birthday. There were museums, boat rides, strange and enchanting French bars, delightfully rich food with funny names, and plenty of sightseeing. On the day that my parents and my brother went to the Louvre, L and I chose instead to go to Euro Disney.
That's right. No Mona Lisa for us. Give me Donald Duck and Big Thunder Mountain!
I was a little nervous at the time that I would come to regret this decision. That someday, I would think to myself, "Why, oh why, did I pass up the opportunity to gaze upon so many world-renown pieces of art?! Why, oh why, did I spend the day running around in fake coon-skin cap, higher on sugar than I'd been in years?! Woe is me, for I've made a terrible mistake!"
Hasn't happened yet. As a matter of fact, there have been few decisions made in my life that I've been as comfortable with. Our day in Euro Disney shall live on as one of the best days ever. The train ride there and back, the relative solitude we experienced in the park (it was the middle of November, threatening rain, and fairly deserted), Max's alternating expressions of pure joy and nostalgia (his parents took his family there for vacation when he was a kid), and the way we fell happily asleep on the floor watching Raiders of the Lost Ark in my parents' rental apartment.
It doesn't get much better than that.
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