I found this picture on my phone, taken just a couple of months ago. Every time we got on the L train after school, it was our tradition to walk to this specific part of the platform and stand in front of the poster for Boo 2. My kids looked at it and laughed every single day. But one day Boo 2 was gone, and replaced with a poster of a really boring looking guy. Now we go stand by the boring guy poster, but always speak fondly of Boo 2. Yesterday my daughter asked if I could find a picture of Boo 2 on the computer and print it out for her. Such heartache. It makes me miss old New York. Like from 2 months ago.

Sometimes you have to stop and appreciate the little things. Like taking the long way to school, walking through the East Village with your daughter, laughing together, pointing out the place where you got a tattoo once in college, then explaining to her that no, she shouldn’t ever get a skull and crossbones tattoo on her forehead, and hoping the answer, “Because it’s hard for people with face tattoos to get jobs. Why? I guess because it would be really distracting for everyone. Like if you worked with someone with a big skull and crossbones on their forehead, it would probably be hard during meetings and stuff, because all you would see is a big skull and crossbones instead of their face and what they’re saying” is a sufficient answer. Then when she says, “Oh THAT makes sense, I think a much better place would be like on your arm or something” you give yourself a little pat on the back.

I think when you spend a lot of time trying to be nice to your kids and trying to teach them to be kind to (and mostly not kill) each other, it can make you get angry at really random, normal things later on in the day because you’ve been holding in some of your real feelings and your authentic emotional balance is way off (or something like that). For example, my head was cold so I walked into Nordstrom Rack to look for a hat. There were some sweaters hanging up, and over them was a sign that said, “Cozy Cool.” I immediately thought to myself, “Ugh what a dumb sign. I hate that sign.” The very next moment I heard a man’s voice read the very same sign OUT LOUD. He was walking around with his wife READING THIS DUMB SIGN ALOUD. “Cozy Cool!” It took every ounce of self control I have not to turn around and say, “WTF is wrong with you?? Not only does everyone have to deal with this stupid pairing of words, but you decide to SAY IT OUT LOUD??!? WHO DOES THAT?” So to recap, screaming children are fine, homeless people peeing on the subway platform 2 feet away from me are fine, even Paul McCartney’s terrible Christmas song is fine. Reading a dumb sign out loud in a store? OH HELL NO. P.S. – This is the hat I got. My winter look is large and ridiculous, and I have fully embraced that.