There we were. We'd just finished lunch on the 5th floor cafeteria of a Paris commercial building, and Sawyer was wet. Les toillettes were located, past the line of women waiting to enter their side we stepped into the men's room to find a muddy/watery floor, a selection of urinals, and no changing table or counter-space. We thought better of that idea and instead sat down on a landing in the stairwell to do the diaper-change. Pants down (his) and onesie undone, we were prepping the new equipment when voices rang out from above. "Monsieur, Monsieur!" came the cry of a chorus of older ladies on the landing above us, 'there's a table up here for you to use' they explained.
Didn't these women know who we were? We don't need a table to change a diaper. This very duo has completed successful changes on the floor of the Louvre at the foot of famous ancient sculptures, on the grasslands of East Africa with an SUV running on one side and elephants trumpeting on the other, and on a rocking boat in Kentucky's largest lake. A table? Pweeeaasse. But the ladies were quite insistent. Either they were disgusted by our actions, afraid we may be appalled at the lack of the hospitality of the French, or something else, but they said we must come up the stairs. So I picked up mid-diaper-change-Sawyer and we shuffled up the stairs. "Where is the table?" I asked in my best French, and they pointed past the line of ladies awaiting entrance to the 8-stall ladies' room. How do I know it's an 8-stall ladies room, you ask? Well let me tell you...
As I was saying, they pointed past the ladies, and there sat a worker for the building who was cleaning floors (or rather taking a break of some sort), who also pointed to the front of the line at the door to the women's restroom. I followed the points and the ladies, women, and girls parted like the red sea (a very narrow tightly-confined red sea) to let me through. Sawyer launched into flirt mode of course, and grinned his way to a nice little crowd of females. Before I knew what had happened, we'd found ourselves at a changing table in the middle of the ladies' room totally surrounded by women... exiting and entering stalls, washing their hands, or just oodling over the cute little boy who wanted to smile at all the gals (and thankfully didn't pee on me this time).
Not where I'd intended or wanted to go, but it gave me a good laugh as I walked back to the cafeteria. Sawyer came away with a bunch of new lady-friends, feeling quite proud I do believe.
**On a totally unrelated note: does ANYONE know where I can get a water bottle in Paris? In France? Just a simple water bottle, that's all I want. You know, the kind you fill up with water, then drink, then repeat. When we left the States I accidentally packed up all of my bottles with my camping gear that's being shipped here to be received sometime next winter. Therefore, I've been looking to buy a water bottle since I realized this mistake our second day here. I don't want to keep buying tons of little "l'eau de minéral" bottles when there's perfectly good water that comes from our tap. I've checked every hypermarché, supermarché, mall, and commercial center I can find, and nothing. Come on France... be green and sell water bottles that can be reused!