I have an apology to make to New York City.
I am sorry for doubting you and jumping to conclusions after my last visit.
I’m not sure what happened, maybe it was the hot weather (100+) and the wrong neighborhood choice (Times Square), but this time I had a completely different experience. We were in Greenpoint, a Polish neighborhood in Brooklyn, where my sister, Anna, and her husband, Ryan, are living until he finishes law school.
The first night Benjamin woke up and started puking. He had the flu, most certainly and unavoidably. And there we all were the next day, on Thanksgiving, staring at each other and wondering in horror when we would all start doing the same. That got old after the first hour so we proceeded as planned and Anna and Ryan made a delicious Thanksgiving Feast.
On Friday morning, having managed to keep it all down, we woke up thinking we had narrowly avoided Benjamin’s flu and we headed ou to Union Square.
We handed the camera to Benjamin in the subway and he took this one of us… (I LOVE it).
Things were going well at that point. But as soon as we got there, the man who has yet to be named (vote on his nickname at the end of the post) started feeling it.
You can see the pain in his face in this picture. Trying. To. Hold. On.
In the meantime, Anna and I kept playing with Benjamin. With one down, we knew we couldn’t be far off. We should have quarantined ourselves, I know. You are all going to yell at me when you see us out in public, poisoning the air of New York City.
But at the time, we felt fine.
And you know that big shiny thing is covered with everyone’s germs anyway. Because who can really stay cramped up in those teeny, tiny little NYC apartments for very long? Definitely not this guy.
But after the slide… Mr. Yet to Be Named retreated back to the apartment with Benjamin, who still wasn’t 100%.
Being a dad himself means he is completely and absolutely awesome at the kid stuff. So, Anna and I stayed back for some shopping and some one-on-one sister time.
She took me to all of her favorite places. And we imagined what it would be like to actually live in the same city. One day. Not yet, but one day. Or at least, the same nursing home. If we don’t end up together again some day I won’t consider my life complete.
Because she’s my sister soul mate.
We spent a lot of time talking about the ironies of relationships past and the joys of relationships present and how, clearly, I should be fired from writing a blog about relationships. You all know why, she knows why, I know why – because I so adamantly insisted everyone should settle and persuaded myself that John was it for me.
“Don’t say that!” I said. “I shouldn’t be fired, it’s my blog. I can’t fire myself from writing about my life.”
“You’re right. It’s your blog,” she added, “and you’ve always said that. You’ve always said that you’re just writing about your experiences, not anyone else’s. And it’s your perspective.”
After a few more hours of shopping Anna and I started feeling it.
We had received word from the apartment that both Ryan and Mr. ? were officially losing it from all exits. We grabbed some Gatorade, Pepto and went home, dreading our impending doom. And sure enough, with a mother’s timing, it hit me just minutes after I tucked Benjamin into bed.
But at least the little shit was happy the entire time.
And in the midst of it all, Mr ? did not complain, not once. We all just took it and still managed to have fun – because we were with each other. And for that, I was incredibly thankful. But again, it appears, NYC and I have an ill-fated relationship. We’ll be back again, soon enough… in the meantime, what should my man’s name be? See pictures of him (when he’s not about to puke) here in my latest photo album.
So, let’s name him.
Leave a comment with your idea or if you like any of these, say so in the comments. Here are my favorites:
1. The Dude – because he is the dude. He is a singer/songwriter, rides a Harley, is tall, dark and handsome and all kinds of sexy, but at the same time he is absolutely gentle, sweet and kind.
2. Mr. Single Dad
3. TDH (for Tall, Dark and Handsome)
4. Mr. Mr. (I don’t know why, but I like this one)
I have thought of all of the cliche names like Mr. Right, Mr. Prince Charming, but they just don’t fit.
As always, I have total veto power because it’s my blog. Muh-ha-ha-ha… but haven’t decided on any of these yet. So fire away.