This trip to Paris we weren’t going to do all the things one does on a trip to Paris. Not on our list: The Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and on and on. Been there done that as the saying goes. This trip we didn’t have any visitors so those tourist trips/traps were not necessary nor would they happen.
And then Flat Stanley that little couch surfing crazy dropped in on us.
Oh my gosh. Flat Stanley. My friend Steve asked me to help him with his grand-daughter’s school project. He wanted me to have Flat Stanley enjoy a Paris vacation with us.
This requires us to first print Stanley, mount him on cardboard with, I dunno, adhesive of some sort, and then take Stanley with us all over Paris. I’ll admit I was not happy at first. We don’t exactly travel with a supply of office goods to prepare us for The Stanley Project.
Then damn Flat Stanley started to become part of my vacation. Oh, yeah. I went to all those places I wasn’t going to go again. Again?
Eiffel Tower, Palais Garnier, Champs-Élysées, Ride on the metro, Check check check. Fricking Stanley ran the Paris marathon. He shopped the Sunday market on Rue Cler. He got in on Palm Sunday at Notre Dame.
Once we stopped for lunch and had a carafe of wine, Stan (as we were now allowed to address him) loosened up. He walked on the grass at Tuileries, peed in the fountains in the metro, laid on the third rail of the metro, and schmoozed the laughing cows in the grocery dairy department.
He hung with the women on the metro poster, became part of the Do Not Cross the street sign and just generally had a grand Paris vacation.
We did all of this on one day so I asked The Husband at dusk if we could drop Stan into the bin. He’d done it all and Steve’s grand-daughter had her pics. Husband looks at Stan the Man, face bent, one foot severely deformed and delivers a hard No. Stanley is not done.