Happy St. Patrick's Day New York City
Zed's learning to hit the town with style. She insisted on the sunglasses for today's adventures. It cracked 60 degrees today, so the fashion statement had some legs even if she didn't happen to look abso-frikkin-lutely rad in those shades. It was a beautiful day, and our first New York City St. Patricks Day ever. We rode the R Train with a bunch of firefighters all decked out in dress blues for the big parade. We (mostly Daddy) consumed modest amounts of Yuengling Lager. We ate lunch with Elle Camino and her Mom down at Pier 6 with a wicked view of downtown Manhattan. We forgot entirely that the NCAA Basketball Tournament was starting today, and instead just hung out and all about with nary a care in at least four boroughs. Today all was well with this messed up world.
The little girls played while the big girls talked about awful baby birthing stuff, and Daddy hung out with some illegal Hispanic immigrants further down the way so that he didn't have to talk about all that frightening baby biology womanly Mother stuff.
Beside Elle our little Zoey doesn't look so very little. Mind you, Elle's no Lew Alcindor, but she's not out of the ordinary short, but standing next to one another Zo's height and slender build stick out like Elle's gut.
It was another nice and easy day in kinda sorta paradise...you know, if your version of paradise includes impatient horn honking drivers, stinky dudes on the subway, and a tonne of people who think that they're more fashionable than they are. None, of course, could manage to be as fashionable as the Zed, but then, she works hard at it.
Always the stylish one, its tough to keep her out of the stores and away from all the things that cost Mom and Dad money. She likes to shop though, and we're not kidding in the least. She eats stores up and spits out their gnawed and picked clean bones. She's a one girl wrecking crew of retail nonsense. You've got one of the World's biggest St. Patricks Day parades rolling like thunder down 5th Avenue, and Zedder wants to buy shoes. I tell myself over and over again that it was me who wanted the daughter. June was non-committal, so now it's only fair that it's me who pays the credit card bills when she's seventeen.
It was a lovely...yeah, I said lovely, 'cause it was...St. Patrick's Day here in New York City. Makes it hard to look ahead, but we must. Tomorrow we've got more midtown, more Central Park, including the ever awesome zoo, some Madison Ave shopping, no less than 67 or 68 degree temps, a Bryant Park nap, and a Michigan tournament game to wrap up the night. When we wake up Saturday morning we'll be packing for home. Sounds like everything we sat through snow and rain dreaming about.
Happy St. Patrick's Day you drunken swines. I hope it was half as good as ours.