Call me obsessed...

While playing a game of Scrabble today with my French conversation group... Let's stop there a minute. First off, my French conversation group started with a reading of a portion of Le Petit Prince. I love the peculiar little fellow from Asteroid B-612! I have a Petit Prince watch, and one year I transformed my son into le Petit Prince (complete with the blue and red topcoat with stars on the shoulders- he already had the blonde curly hair)for Halloween.

What could get better than this? Our facilitator, who was a daughter of the American Revolution (her great, great...grandfather fought with Lafayette in our Revolution- it all comes back to France), said the words I love to hear. "On va jouer au Scrabble pour pratiquer les mots francais". That's right folks. She was going to bust out a game of Scrabble. I was excited and nervous. I love a board game, but become a total freak when playing. I was afraid I might scare off my conversation group at my first meeting. Within a few rounds, I realized I was dealing with novices, AND WE WEREN'T KEEPING SCORE which allowed my to take it all down a few notches. I had to intervene when the Scandinavian player to my right was going to set down the word "tu". "Hold on", I said, "let's see what else we can do". A two letter word at the beginning of the game- ARE YOU KIDDING?! She seemed to appreciate my help which is good because I "helped" a couple more times. The facilitator called me "scrabble pro" or maybe it was scrabble freak.

Getting back to my original story, toward the end of the game, my phone chirped (seriouly, it was set on a cricket ring- Sean?) I got a call from school saying my son wasn't feeling well. I thanked and said goodbye to my conversation/Scrabble group and headed quickly to school.

And then I realized, I STILL HAVE TIME ON MY VELIB'! (My 24 hours still weren't up). I can pick up another bike and ride to Q's school and get there quicker, I thought. I soon saw some Velib racks and searched for my card with the authorization number. Durn. No card. Luckily, I remembered the seven digit number from my outings the day before and hopped on a bike. I hopped off and checked it back in right around the corner from Q's school. I'm telling you- the freedom of it all! It's great! I was wrong about the name of Velib'- it means bike of freedom (not free bike like I said yesterday- but hey, it is also free.

Upon returning home with my boy, I noticed a letter for Sean. I bet it's his Velib authorization, I thought. Sure enough, when Sean came home he opened it and gloated that he got his yearly Velib' pass first. Yeah, well, who has travelled all over the city on a Velib'? It's all a competition. I warned you I was obsessed...