DORIS
"Is that France?" Mia asked, leaning over her father and pointing out the plane's small round window.
"That’s Paris, yes," Arthur said.
"Can we sing French songs and eat French fries?"
Arthur and I laughed.
"Of course, pumpkin."
We went to the central park right away, and Arthur asked someone for directions to the carousel in what sounded to me like perfect French.
"I’m impressed," I said.
"Don’t be," he responded. “I speak French, Spanish, Hindi, and Mandarin, and I butcher them all."
"It sounded pretty good to me," I said.
"It sounded like blah blah blah blah blah blah to me," Mia said.
We found the carousel. It didn’t look exactly like an American one. The animals were more fantastical, like something out of an old-fashioned children’s
