Eurwoes

This unsuspecting, happy tourist who doesn't believe in pick-pocketers despite the signs everywhere in three or four languages warning all tourists, had his wallet slipped from his pocket by a savvy, Parisian, femme in the subway station, Abbesses atop Montmartre just before his long descent into the depths of the deepest Metro station in all of Paris, where he discovered the atrocity, a missing wallet. No more Euros!!!!! And it's been one thing after another since, financially speaking. I forgot my pin number, having not used it in months, then my credit card was canceled by the bank, due to irregular activity. I called to ask why it wasn't working. Apparently someone used it in a grocery store in France. Never mind the fact that it was the same grocery store in France that it has been being used in since September. I had another that did work, and they're sending me a new pin number. We've had more occasions for the use of cash in the past two weeks than we could ever imagine though. Luckily Caroline and Tom have loaned us plenty. Just last night we went out to eat for dinner at a restaurant here in Cluny knowing my credit card was working again, and having a back up one we felt safe in ordering plenty of food and drinks, and dessert for the children while we drank even more. I managed to correct an error on the bill and the server, said, "Oh, excuse-moi" and ran off to correct it, then returned to inform us that my card didn't work. They tried both. Neither worked. Caleb left me to beg more money off Caroline and Tom who luckily were home with cash. I stayed to speak drunk French to the server all the while, and believe me I didn't shut up the whole time, How Embarrassing, small town, will have to see these people again , and again. At night as I fall asleep, I have French running through my head. I have these great conversations with myself. In the day I think every thing I say to the kids over again in French, usually muttering it to them as they don't usually want to hear it, though Sofie can count to ten in French now which is close to how high she can count in English. But then when I have an opportunity to speak to someone, it comes out so pathetically, maybe partly to do with the embarrassing nature of the situation already, maybe due to the half a bottle of Bourgogne. Who's to say really? Looking for more people to talk to. In Paris people often meet to speak French half time and Onglais the other half so they can both improve their skills. I need to find a place to hang a sign around here for this purpose.