Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Treeeck or Treeet 2010


Trick or Treat
Smell my feet
Give me something good to eat
If you don’t
I don’t care
I’ll pull down your underwear


Feet and underwear being the key words for how La Mom’s Halloween went down.


Actually, let's put it this way:

You know you live in Paris when you celebrate Halloween 2010....

-By making the expat moms hide in various rooms around your apartment to dole out the Halloween candy when the kids come trick-or-treating. And they play along with cheesy smiles plastered on their faces like it’s the cutest idea they’ve ever heard of.

-By having the kids trick-or-treat in your apartment. They have to knock on the doors of the laundry room, the bathroom, the guest room, the bedroom, and the kitchen looking for their treats.

La Mom: I can’t believe my kids are trick-or-treating in the bathroom!
S. Carolina Mom: Swee-tay, it’s thuh best ya can do livin’ in a cun-tray that doesn’t celebrate Halloween.
La Mom: I know, but c’mon. Trick-or-treating in the crapper? How crappy is that?
Washington Mom: Don’t worry, the kids don’t realize it. They’re focused on the candy, not les chiottes.
SF Mom: What can you do anyway? It’s not like you can let the kids trick-or-treat in your apartment building. You don’t know your neighbours and the French just don’t get the whole begging for candy thing.

-By inviting Big Fry’s French friends and their bourgeois parents to the Halloween party. Then you watch nervously as they sit uncomfortably not relating to the loud American dads drinking beer in the salon and watching a download of the World Series, while the bilingual American kids chase the French ones around screaming, “Smell my feet! Sentez mes pieds! I’m gonna pull down your underwear! Je vais enlever ton caleçon! Ha ha ha!”
(So not funny for the Frenchies).

-For the adults: by serving a 40€ bottle of Bolinger champagne with a 1€ bag of Bugles chips and a 5€ frozen chocolate cake from Picard.

-By observing the distinct difference in how the French kids ask for their candy:

Texas Mom: Pierre-Louis is so well behaved.
PL's Maman: Merci.
Texas Mom: I asked him, “What do you say in English?” when the kids knocked on the kitchen door for candy and he said...
PL’s Maman: Treeeck or treeet? We’ve beeen practeeceeng zat sentence all morneeng before ze partee.
Texas Mom: He said, “s’il te plaît.” How adorable is that?!
SF Mom: All the Americans screamed, “ I want candy, trick or treat!” "Please" was the last think on their minds.

-And the American dads walk into your apartment and bust out laughing as they see pumpkins displayed on the hallway table:

Texas Dad: Hey La Mom – are those the Jack-Off Lanterns you found at that French farm?
S. Carolina Dad: Who’s the Jack-Off that doesn’t know how to use Google translator?
SF Dad: La Mom, do they sell “Choke the Chickens” at that farm too?
La Mom: Not so loud! You don’t want the Frenchies to hear you acting like a Jack-off!

==========================
Merci beaucoup to those gorgeous ladies and gentlemen who are publicly following La Mom's blog. I love seeing your smiling faces!

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Joyeux Halloween!

This La Mom Classic was originally posted on October 31st, 2009.

Halloween was always favorite holiday back in the States. It’s still my fave in Paris – but not for the crisp fall weather or imported candy corn.

Because it’s a chance to get an up-close-and-personal look at the best real estate in town.

Trick or treating involves begging strangers for sweets. In a town where you don't know your across-the-hall neighbors, this doesn't go down so well.

So there’s only one solution.

Host a party in a private Parisian mansion where there’s all the doors you need and more.

You know you’re celebrating Halloween in Paris when:

- Kids use Chloé shopping bags as trick-or-treat sacks

- Moms give out individually wrapped Hédiard chocolate squares because “that’s all I had in the house!”

- An army of nannies/au pairs dole out the candy when the children come knocking.

- Mommy’s “treat” while the kids OD on KitKats is Pierre Hermé macaroons washed down with a flute of champagne. The “trick” is to pry the Fries away from the portable crèpe stand manned by the household help.

Let me tell you, it feels like a long way from the pumpkin patch back home...
 

View my page on Mom Bloggers Club