Well the title of the post may be overstating it but I have received several emails that all are to the similar tune of WHERE IN THE HOLY HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? WHY AREN'T YOU BLOGGIIINNNNGGGGGGG??
So yeah here I am. What I really think everyone is itching for is for me to share another embarrasing story where yours truly makes a total ass out of herself in public somehow.
And here you go.
I have been taking the boys to the local playground a few times a week, experimenting with what time is best for them and for me. My criteria are as follows:
1) That all the drunks that seem to live there overnight be off rummaging through the remnants of last nights garbage at the nearest bar for leftover beers.
2) That all the perfectly coiffed moms in their yoga pants with matching tops and jackets not be there yet, preferably at a time while they are all home putting on eyeliner and blush. TO GO TO THE PARK.
3) That all the snotty older kids that I have to resist punching in the face not be there yet because we are poor and Mike probably wouldn't be able to post my bail after I assault a 12 year old for hurting my kid.
I've come to the conclusion that around 10 AM seems to be the best time, the boys can run around for an hour or more before all the stepford moms appear and start eying my ripped jeans and WoW t- shirts with disdain as they all ignore their own kids and make faces as I run around with mine like a demented lunatic.
This morning we got an early start and I was looking forward to an empty park. As I came up the block I noticed that there seemed to be an unusually large number of early morning kids there and I frowned when I saw some older kids there too. Now, being home has totally messed with my internal clock but I was reasonably sure that it was Monday and a school day. I was right about the Monday part but unfortunately for me, it isn't a school day, rather all the NYC public schools are closed in observance of Yom Kippur. "Gah", I thought, "maybe I should have worn a bra." See, I am not that well endowed and usually I can get away with hanging around the house sans bra, since there isnt much there to need one. So when I got dressed to take the boys to the park thinking it would be just us as usual, I just threw on a t-shirt and jeans. A yellow t-shirt. Um, a thin yellow t shirt. Before you go off and call me a degenerate I want to add that it was cool this morning and I had a hoodie on OVER the thin yellow t shirt. The thing is that it got quite warm on the walk to the playground and I had removed said hoodie so that when I arrived I arrived in all my areolic glory. I know thats not a word but it best describes my state. Nipply glory sounds like another way of describing my state of, ah, glory. Whatever.
The yoga moms snickered behind carefully manicured hands, babies stared longingly and the older boys all gawked. What did I do? I shrugged and and said eff it, and I played to my hearts content.
Note to self: Find new park.
