Wednesday

Paris

Finally, we make it to Paris. I had to call Airport Connections right when we landed to make sure they were still going to be able to pick us up and drop us off at our hotel. I called the hotel and they held our reservation, just charged us for the night we didn't quite make. This time, we were definitely exhausted. It is now Saturday, the only shopping day left in Paris before we depart on Monday. Sunday, is a mandatory "closed" day. Well with the exceptions of certain shops on Champs Elysses. Sam & I drag ourselves out there and try to get as much shopping done...well it was definitely a challenge because we didn't know quite where we were this time...last time we went to Paris, we were there for seven days, of course, in a different location. But in the end, we find it, did majority of the shopping, finally make it back to the hotel. My mom was gone. I guess she decided to get up after a while and go shopping too. Soon after, my mom shows up back at the hotel. She's hungry and says we should go out and eat dinner. My daughter was completely not in the mood to do any more walking, even if it meant walking across the street. I asked for room service, but apparently that is only on certain ocassions, not all the time?? I didn't quite understand that part of it. My mother and I venture out to get dinner. We eat at a lovely Restaurant called Brasserie [?]. I have no idea what it means, but the food was yummy. I get take out for Sam. We get back to the hotel & started knocking, but no one answers. I start banging on the door, yelling Sam are you there? I know she is there because she was so tired. My mother starts yelling at me for leaving her [as if I was the only one that left her], but she was genuinely tired. My mother goes to the front desk to get an extra key, well Sam locks the top lock so you can't completely open the door & I continue to knock and knock, calling her...she finally wakes up...crying, mommy, my leg. I knew exactly what she meant, she was cramping up and she couldn't move. I kept telling her that I couldn't help her unless she unlocked the door. She finally got to the door and I had to help her. I draw her a hot bath...she looked grey...so I gave her a neb treatment [she has asthma] & she fell asleep and was biting down on the mouth piece. I attempt to carry her to the bathroom [God knows where the hell my mother is, but she isn't helping] & give her a hot bath & she finally feels better. She eats the food I brought back & ends up passing out on her bed with wet hair. All my mother wants to do is shop, so I end up going with her [again] to shop close by...just a cheap stores. I end up making her purchase me clothing as well [cause I've got to be there with her, might as well, right?] We come back to the hotel and my mother desperately wants to see Versailles. We end up booking a trip to Versailles for 1:30 in the afternoon on Sunday. I was so tired. I slept & slept....and finally got up to go to Versailles. We go on this tour...a driver picks up me, my daughter & my mother and two other guests from our hotel. We travel to one more hotel to pick up two other guests. We make the 40 minute drive, it's about 35 km away from the city. The tour guide gives us the story of Versailles and how it is possibly the biggest palace. It has something like 1000 plus rooms [yes, I was listening very tentatively]. Our luck, we only get to see 25 [thank God]. Lots of tourists, cobblestones, beautiful tapestry, ornate, everything you can think of a grand palace. The gardens were breath taking. It was a cold & windy day. All I wanted to do was just hurdle up by a fireplace, but no...I had the driver drop us off at Champ Elysses because I'm a nut ball. We do little bit of shopping and eat dinner. Finally returning to the hotel to start the endless packing of stuff. A car will come for us at 5:00 a.m., so I guess we'd better be done before we go to bed. The next morning, the driver was prompt. We stop at one other hotel to pick up another couple going to Charles de Gaulle airport. The kiosks were not working, so there were LONG lines, everywhere. I needed to get my VAT stamped so I could receive a tax refund for my purchases. I tell my mom to just go ahead and Sam & I look for the VAT office. We find the VAT office and they tell me that they need my boarding pass, well I haven't checked in because VAT asks that they are able to see the merchandise. I go back and check in thru a kiosk...then my mother realizes that she can't find one of her credit cards and what does she do? She blames me. She can't find her pounds, she thinks I stole it. She can't find her euros, she thinks I stole it. I finally lose it when she starts to accuse my daughter of taking it. I start yelling at her & I just told her to cancel the damn credit card and the others I have no idea...but I assume she dropped it. She has five different places where she hides her money [just like my grandma, who had dimentia]. Then I really tell her off, she was like I never lose anything...and I was like, oh yeah, just like when you lost your passport in California? She didn't like that comment and frowned. I just separated from her & Sam & I deal with our own flight. I get to the check-in desk and check-in my luggage, the agent asks what is my destination? I tell her Denver. She didn't quite understand because it just said Heathrow [London], well we had bought the tickets seperately, but it is both through the same airline, so they just put tags on our bags so that we wouldn't need to pick them up at Heathrow [London] & they would directly go through to Denver. Well as my mother comes over to our area and finds out that we have done so, she is upset because they didn't do that with her luggage. I'm not sure what she did when she checked in, but that's it...she depends on everyone else to help her and if you don't, then you are out to get her. I didn't want the situation to escalate, so I tell her, to get a separate seat from London to Denver. When we got on the plane from Paris to London, I had Sam sit inbetween us because I was literally going to strangle her.

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