It rained, oh, about half of the time we were up there, which was a bummer, but I feel like we made the best of it. I finished up Catcher in the Rye while we were in Cooperstown (I needed some New York-y coming of age literature to get me in the mood for our stay), so naturally, I wanted to catch a few ducks swimming in Central Park and ask them in person where they went when the ponds froze. Then I called everyone a phoney a la Holden and called it a day. There are ducks in the picture actually--they're just behind those reeds. I was getting mad at Carter when I was taking this b/c he wasn't holding the umbrella over me sufficiently.
My shoes were completely soaked this day, and I was NOT HAPPY. I took off my shoes in the cafe in the Met and tried to blow dry my dripping socks over a vent in the floor. It was classy.
There was also this 13-year old private school kid sitting behind me who kept knocking his chair into mine, and this, too, made me NOT HAPPY. I might have thrown some serious passive aggressive teacher looks his way and knocked into his chair when getting up. Take that, kid. I learned him real good.
The day before, we breakfasted at Balthazar and wandered through the Village, stopping in a paper store and a book store, then made our way to Zabar's, and I did go through the "cash only" line with our bread and gruyere.
Then we took it over to the park and ate it, while unsuccessfully trying to keep our behinds dry. C, too, had a NOT HAPPY moment on the way to the park this day. He said something along the lines of "Why isn't the park closer?!" I had no answer for him.
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