No, this is not a posting about anything that requires an exterminator, poison, or special lice shampoos. Rather the mouse that paid us a visit last night is one of the helpers of the Tooth Fairy. At least, that's how we position it, since we are otherwise at a loss to explain why the Tooth Fairy is the one who takes the teeth and leaves the money in San Francisco, but it is a mouse who does it here. The mouse comes in the middle of the night as quiet as, well, a mouse, takes the tooth, and leaves two euros in its place. It is true: Just ask Pippa and all her friends.
Here are some before and after photos:
As for the other surprise guests, 'tis the fifth season here in Paris: fall, winter, spring, summer, and tourist. So, our guests have started arriving. In droves. Those who are visiting us now continue a disturbing trend begun by our first guest, back in February of arriving on a different day than expected.
The basic issue -- though not the only one -- is that many of you are telling us the day you are leaving the US (and especially the West Coast), as opposed to the day you are arriving here in Paris. So when you tell us your trip is from the 9th, and you are arriving around 3pm, we are here waiting for you around 3pm on the 9th. The problem is, you lose a day coming over from the West Coast, so you may be leaving on the 9th, but you're not here till the 10th.
Our first guest, Jen, is a former international pilot, so she understands time zones, and hers may be the only case where we are caught off guard by my own error. Originally, she is slated to come in on a Sunday, and when her plans changed to Saturday, I somehow miss the memo. So Saturday morning, we're having a leisurely morning at the house when I receive a phone call from Jen. I figure she has some last-minute question before she boards a plane, or is going to warn me of a flight delay. "Where are you?," I ask. "Coming out of your metro station..." (Cue: scrambling to clean apartment....)
So when our second guests also arrive a day earlier than expected in April, Anthony is convinced that I am a complete scheduling ignoramus. But no, in that case they had clearly told me Saturday, only to change plans unbeknownst to us and show up on a Friday. Luckily, we are home a lot, so all's well that ends well.
More recently, Anthony calls to check on his brother and sister-in-law, when they still haven't arrived hours later than expected. It turns out they hadn't even gotten on their first plane yet. And our guests who are here now have been on our calendar for half a year as arriving on Monday. A few days ago we find out -- you guessed it -- that they leave on Monday, but get here on Tuesday.
So from now on, even if you let us know your travel plans in very specific detail, we'll just go about our business and look forward to that unexpected doorbell at a completely different day and time. I hope you find us home!
Here are some before and after photos:
As for the other surprise guests, 'tis the fifth season here in Paris: fall, winter, spring, summer, and tourist. So, our guests have started arriving. In droves. Those who are visiting us now continue a disturbing trend begun by our first guest, back in February of arriving on a different day than expected.
The basic issue -- though not the only one -- is that many of you are telling us the day you are leaving the US (and especially the West Coast), as opposed to the day you are arriving here in Paris. So when you tell us your trip is from the 9th, and you are arriving around 3pm, we are here waiting for you around 3pm on the 9th. The problem is, you lose a day coming over from the West Coast, so you may be leaving on the 9th, but you're not here till the 10th.
Our first guest, Jen, is a former international pilot, so she understands time zones, and hers may be the only case where we are caught off guard by my own error. Originally, she is slated to come in on a Sunday, and when her plans changed to Saturday, I somehow miss the memo. So Saturday morning, we're having a leisurely morning at the house when I receive a phone call from Jen. I figure she has some last-minute question before she boards a plane, or is going to warn me of a flight delay. "Where are you?," I ask. "Coming out of your metro station..." (Cue: scrambling to clean apartment....)
So when our second guests also arrive a day earlier than expected in April, Anthony is convinced that I am a complete scheduling ignoramus. But no, in that case they had clearly told me Saturday, only to change plans unbeknownst to us and show up on a Friday. Luckily, we are home a lot, so all's well that ends well.
More recently, Anthony calls to check on his brother and sister-in-law, when they still haven't arrived hours later than expected. It turns out they hadn't even gotten on their first plane yet. And our guests who are here now have been on our calendar for half a year as arriving on Monday. A few days ago we find out -- you guessed it -- that they leave on Monday, but get here on Tuesday.
So from now on, even if you let us know your travel plans in very specific detail, we'll just go about our business and look forward to that unexpected doorbell at a completely different day and time. I hope you find us home!
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