March 5, 2012

Dear Babies,

A friend of mine told me a story this weekend about her five-year-old daughter.

While in California the family stayed at a five-star hotel in Beverly Hills for the night. They ate on fine china with silver. They wore plush slippers and robes…

They went to Disneyland for the day where, around 10 p.m., the little girl fell asleep in her father’s arms…

The next morning they woke up at a Courtyard Marriott.

The little girl was very quiet that morning.

During breakfast she sat looking around, eating her Coco Puffs from a box.

“Papa,” she finally said putting down her juice box, “this place is different.”

…We were up and at ’em this weekend. At Home Depot yesterday by what, 9:30 a.m.?

“I’m starving,” I groaned to your father.

But there was no time to stop. We did not want you guys to fall asleep in the car and deal with, now what? drive around? Try “the transfer”and push them around Home Depot hoping they’ll fall back to sleep? Yeah, that’ll happen. It was gotta go, gotta go, gotta go.

“Can’t I at least have water?? Coffee? An egg sandwich, come on, we can split it!”

“You can get something at the Home Depot cart,” your father nudged with his head toward a food truck with an orange awning parked beside the store as we pulled into the massive parking lot.

Sausage, it advertised.

Chicken cheesesteaks.

Hot dogs.

It looked…dirty.

Where was my bagel. My latte. My golden, crispy hash browns.

“Papa,” I turned to him and said, “this place is different.”

See, kids? From you we really do learn so much.



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