Trust me, camping is more than sleeping bags, tents and camp fires. Especially if you are camping in France. Then it’s an invitation for a one of a kind affair.
We arrived late to our camp in Normandy. It took as another hour to set up the tent, so by the time we were unpacked, neither of us wanted to cook dinner. We decided to treat ourselves with the meal at the camp’s restaurant.
We made quiet an entrance: two girls rushed in like a tornado, followed by my over 6 feet tall husband and me. I looked as if I had been camping for a month in the wilderness of Alaska: no makeup, messy hair, dressed in stained black tights and a short sleeved pink baggy T-shirt that matched my rain boots. When we were finally seated, we were approached by a waiter. Cute one, I noticed and he got even hotter once he started addressing me in his lovely French.
Because the kids were causing such a ruckus, hubs took them to the playground and conveniently left me to deal with the order on my own. I muddled through French, which I’ve attempted to learn several time. At that moment I only remembered how to order four croissants. Not necessarily a bad thing, but not very useful outside of a bakery. The waiter smiled encouragingly, though I soon realized that his English was way better than my French. After finally placing our order I was relieved, as if I had just passed high school Calculus.
Perhaps that is why I barely noticed the wink. But nothing goes unnoticed by my husband, who rolled his eyes when the waiter served our drinks and again addressed me in French. “So, sorry,” he said with his adorable accent when he realized his mistake. “You just look so French.” And again the wink. Oh my, I took that as the highest compliment one can be bestowed with.
“He wants to have an affair with you,” whispered my husband.
The thought was so ludicrous. I mean what man in the right mind would want an affair with me? OK, that came out completely wrong. But he kept talking to me after placing our food on the table. I was seriously wondering what does he want. Apparently I have been a wife and a mom for too long, if that was my first thought.
Was hubby right?
I started warming up to the idea – not to the idea of having an affair, because well, there’s no room in the tent. Or was I supposed to crawl out of the tent when everyone was asleep? Do I leave my PJ’s on and just slip into my sexy pink rain boots? Quietly without tripping over I rush to… where exactly? The restrooms or do we meet behind the restaurant… And then what… Even thinking about it made me tired. Was I prepare to literally miss sleep over this? Then I also remembered hubby. So no affair for me.
I was actually warming up to the idea of him flirting with me – it gave me a huge ego boost. Yeah, I do look good, I am a natural, and I am hot without even trying… I have things going on for me. I could definitely have an affair with this guy. But I don’t want to.
And clearly neither did my cute waiter. The second the kids finished their meal and rushed back to the playground, hubby went to the restroom and I was alone again. He passed me by (no wink) and started talking with ladies seated behind us. As I listened to him flirt – aka cheat on me, I was kind of sorry our almost affair had come to an end. But I thought at least I will be feeling like a million bucks for the entire vacation. Until hubs leaned in and whispered: “I was just kidding, you do know he was only after a bigger tip, right.”