|View from Le Jules Verne Restaurant on the second level of the Eiffel Tower.|
It's not always easy being the mother of adult-aged children, especially when they start discussing my foibles like I'm not even in the same room as them. I mean seriously, don't they know that my hearing is still intact?!
Sara (sighing): Mom keeps tweeting.
Philippe (in an exasperated voice): I already told her that she had to stop tweeting at the table a long time ago.
Sara: Well, she hasn't tweeted at the table...yet...but she has been tweeting on the metro...and the bus. And she even tweeted in the D'Orsay Museum even though I told her not to.
Me: (attempting to get a word in edge-wise) I was checking me email not tweeting.
Philippe: (completely ignoring my explanation) She would have never let us tweet at the table when we were young.
Sara: I know! She didn't even let us answer our text messages while we were having dinner, so I don't understand why she's tweeting all the time now.
Knowing that they were right (kind of) and that there was no way that I would be able to sneak in some covert tweets while under their close scrutiny, I disconnected from Twitter during the holidays.
I didn't tweet about the magnificent view of the Place de la Concorde from the Jules Verne Restaurant on the Eiffel Tower...
the delicious venison...
the crowds at Versailles when we mistakenly went on a Sunday instead of during the week...
the disco lights sparkling off the ice skating rink in the Grand Palais...
or standing in the pouring rain waiting to welcome in the New Year on the Champs-Élysées.
Instead, I simply enjoyed being with everyone.
Realizing that I had made a big effort to change my errant ways and wanting to reinforce my good behavior, Sara surprised me with a pair of texting gloves for Christmas. They're really great because now I'll be able to tweet, write messages and check my Facebook account without getting my fingers cold...but only when I'm on my own. I promise!
|My new texting, or touch screen phone smart, gloves.|