Reuben’s Trabel Journal Entry #14

Starry Picnic in Paris
Seine Riverbank, across from the Eiffel Tower

Tonight was magic. Not the abracadabra kind—though Dougie did pull a wheel ob brie from under his hat—but the kind that comes from being in the right place, wiff the right people, at the right time.

We spent the whole afternoon setting up the perfect Paris picnic. Dougie and Teddy worked out the logistics: tablecloth ironed (twice), tin foil stars hand made and strung wiff care (and only a little tape in Teddy’s fur), plates stacked, fruit fluffed. I obersaw cheese placement. It’s a delicate science.

We picked this spot across the river so we could watch the Eiffel Tower do her sparkly dance. She twinkles ebery hour, like a big golden disco rat. Teddy gasped the first time she lit up—then dropped a grape out ob joy.

The rest of the crew is on their way—Peter is bringing little cakes he rated 4.7 for frosting swirl consistency, and the Cowsins are carrying a baguette so long it needed its own seat on the Metro.

But for now, it’s just us three under our homemade sky ob tin foil stars. And I gotta say, eben though Paris is full ob lights and art and buttery smells, this right here—wiff snacks, and stars, and best friends—is the most beautiful fing I’be seen all day. Wish you could be here wiff us.

– Reuben xoxo

P.S. Dougie tried to charge a tourist two euros to sit at our table. He says he’s “just testing our brand strength.” Teddy says we’re going to French jail.