My mother used to claim I would lose my head if it were not screwed on. How I have suffered with that ancient rebuke. Dear Mother, I do not lose things. I simply store them in mysterious places.
In May of 2015, my wife and I invited our 27-year-old son to join us on our first trip to Paris. This vacation was especially important to me. I used to be somewhat fluent in the language, having studied French throughout junior high, high school and college. To my great pleasure, after…