The Eiffel Tower . . .

In the last 72 hours, my child's mind has apparently moved from dinosaurs to something equally regal and equally timeless . . . the Eiffel Tower. Neither her mother nor I know exactly where the obsession has come from (we've read This is Paris to her a million times (we have about ten of Sasek's books), I got her a snow globe at Paris last year, she got a Disney souvenir tower from the France Pavillion at EPCOT last fall, we had a painting hanging in our old house that featured the structure but it's never been a real focus of conversation or obsession). But obsession is the word.
  • We spent over an hour tonight on Vimeo watching random videos featuring the Eiffel Tower 
  • We ordered an Eiffel Tower cookie cutter (and spent 50x the cost of it to have it shipped)
  • A replica of the tower is being made (of Popsicle sticks)
  • THIS has been put at the top of the Easter "wish list"
  • We went this evening and bought and read the fist chapter of Eiffel's Tower (yes, I'm reading my six year old narrative non-fiction written by a historic scholar)
Want a crash course on the tower? I suggest this one.

We talk about the tower all the time (when not discussing dinosaurs and when we're going to make our first of trips (always plural) to Paris to see it) and we've begun learning random facts about the tower, Gustave Eiffel, the 1889 World's Fair (why the tower was built - intended to be a temporary structure in BARCELONA, for the record), and the City of Lights itself.

Random aside - when I was 15, I went to Paris (and a whirlwind tour of all of France and Geneva, Switzerland) with my high school French Club. I was scared to go up the Eiffel Tower (I hate open-air heights). I was eventually convinced to partake in an ascent only to be essentially mugged (the attempt failed) and I ran down the stairs . . . from the second deck allllll the way to the ground (if you're not afraid of heights, run down steel grate stairs for about 15 straight minutes - you will be). But I'm glad I went up. I'm glad I saw Paris from above the ground.

I've yet to tell Ava this story. I want her to believe it is the most amazing, magical place on earth where nothing bad could ever happen . . . because that is what dad's do for their daughters . . . make the world safe. Or at least save the scary stuff for later.