Paris Nudges Me Awake

After a long night interrupted countless times by my restless mind, as well as my baby's cries, I fell asleep for our morning nap with his soft foot on my nose.

I awoke too soon to clomping in the street and a baby lying in my arms. I tried settling back into sleep but I couldn't help wonder if I had heard a horse trotting down the small street below our window.

I had visions of a lost Cavalerie de la Garde Républicaine soldier, in his elegant black jacket and shiny gold helmet topped by a bright red crest with a horse tail jutting out of it, riding his horse, which left a huge pile of dung for pedestrians and cars to negotiate.

But a woman's laughter pierced the fantasy, I turned my head, looked at my baby's soft, sleeping face, his mouth slightly ajar revealing hints of his very white upper teeth, two of seven, and his breath soft and rhythmic, as his fingers twitched gently.