After we took care of Ezra's many ailments – including obtaining antibiotics for his growing and infected callous or wart or god-forbid-Lyme-disease (our obliging pharmacist allowed a text from my pediatrician father-in-law to act as a prescription) – we all settled comfortably into Florence, and Florence obliged like a bean bag chair.
My husband Michael is leaving today. Last night I was crying on his shoulder saying,
"Don't leave me alone with these mean people!"
Now, that was after I was almost arrested in the Paris Metro, because I couldn't produce my used ticket. Or rather, I gave the ticket in my back pocket to the Metro Policeman, he said something I didn’t understand and pulled me aside, asking me to pay 35 Euros for not having a ticket.