A Cafe and Croissant

 
  Sometimes you just have to say no… and go to Paris. Without a day off all together this week and a heavy work schedule looming, the thought of spending my entire day cleaning and doing laundry just would not do- despite the overflowing hampers, dishes in the sink and an empty fridge…
  So in a great escape of household duties, we went to ‘Paris’ instead. Me and my girl.
  I’ve never been to Paris. I only know what I’ve seen in movies and in photographs- and like I heard from someone or from somewhere- I’d too be confused, if actually in Paris,  if the city was not really in black and white.
  But, my little piece of imaginary Paris? Old Town Fort Collins on an early spring morning. Pushing my babe in her stroller, the tree lined streets, the bustling, but not too bustling activity amongst the store fronts and sidewalks... and the place I’ve always passed but have seldom gone in. Le Creperie and Bakery on Mountain and Mason.
  The smells of their baked wares wafting onto the street and the sign that read ‘please wait outside until your turn.’ I could see the tiny pastry case with the fabulous treats that awaited inside. And then the other sign. Reminding me that this is a cash only establishment.
  I could almost hear the sad accordion music as mother and child turned away, as one who never operates in cash is now unable to taste the chocolate croissants I’ve but tasted only once and I’d been talking about all morning to a two year old.
  But as in a French film a smile crept upon my face and the music took to a lighter note as I remembered a fabulous bakery is always just a stone’s throw and a pleasant walk away in Old Town. And so it was that we meandered to The Little Bird Bakeshop. They took plastic, and the croissant wasn’t chocolat, but it was buttery and delicious. The latte was perfection and the giant chair we snagged in the corner was the perfect spot to enjoy our little treat and look out onto the square.
 The patrons were all a happy childless bunch, and maybe they weren’t looking at me sideways, maybe it was all in my mind. But I felt a little guilty for my date being under three feet tall. Is it a faux pas to bring a child to a coffee shop? It’s not the first time I have felt this way. I know there are places for someone in my condition to go, where there are indoor playgrounds and what not, and believe me, if I thought my kiddo would in any way disrupt the grownup time of any other patron I would not bring her. I even get my goodies to go in case my typically behaved child decides to be in any way a nuisance. I feared I may be the annoying American tourist in my Parisian fantasy and then a fantastic older gentleman in a black and white horizontal striped shirt stopped and talked to my little one and all was right in the world, and the music played on in my head.