it would be really sweet if i now write that it's my child doing something adorable. alas, that's not what i was talking about.
i was talking about the sound of a racquet hitting a ball. we went to the french open!
it was an event. leave it to the french to have uber-dramatic choreography going on in the background while watching tennis on the big screen. it was also quintessential french to take lounge chairs from nearby cafes in order to more leisurely watch the match with food you brought from home. so egalitarian.
on the way home, nik and i admitted to each other that it was better than our experience at the u.s. open. we think it had to do with not having seats. i know this is probably the reverse of what you would imagine to be true, but unless you have really great seats, I'm not sure it's worth it. i think we had the best seats in the house for 20 euro. in new york, we were up in the nosebleeds, and what happens is that you think, well, i paid for this seat, and i'm going to sit here the entire time regardless of whether i can see the ball.
we were so liberated! we spread out a blanket, had a picnic, and let ollie stretch out.
and the biggest success of the day? not sunburning our child.
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| not that you can tell, but that's clay on my hand |
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