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Snow Day with Sasha: Time to Drink!

January 28th, 2011  |  by  |  Published in Uncategorized

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? A while since we took on that hoary, divisive subject: babies in bars. Well, if you’ve been waiting for a chance to foam at the mouth about the diaper-clad set occupying the dive where you get sloshed, then wait no longer!

First, send a thank you to Bloomberg’s Board of Education, which in the face of a minor blizzard canceled school yesterday, triggering a cascade effect throughout the city’s private schools, which shut down as well. So, Sasha was stuck at home with me, and I got stuck at home with Sasha.

Overall, it was a fine day. In the morning, we visited Earle, the 2-year-old who lives downstairs, and were joined by Rebecca, the almost-2-year-old who lives even farther downstairs. (Down in the basement, there’s also a 16-year-old we keep in a cage, next to the bicycles, but we didn’t think she’d enjoy this playdate.) The three toddlers got along great, and we rarely had to remind them to share. At the end, Sasha and Becca hugged good-bye. Awwwww….

After lunch and a nap, however, we needed to get out, and since I was supposed to meet up with Jeff Koyen, a fellow travel writer who lives in my neighborhood, I figured I’d bring Sasha along. To a bar! God, we hadn’t been to one in so long. Would it be a disaster?

Reader, were you at Bar Great Harry yesterday afternoon? If so, you probably noticed Sasha dancing to the Ramones. You also probably noticed no one else dancing to the Ramones. What I mean is, Sasha did spectacularly well at the bar. Almost no crying (thanks to my provision of a lollipop, pretzels and an iPad loaded with “Yo Gabba Gabba”), not too much wild running around, no drinks spilled. She was, as toddlers go, a model barfly.

No idea, however, if every other patron felt that way. One woman told me she wanted to bring her own granddaughter there, then asked if Jeff and I were the “daddies.” (Tee-hee!) Another, younger woman marveled at Sasha’s cuteness, and the bartender filled Sasha’s sippy-cup with O.J. and vodka water, which Sasha used to clink glasses with me and Jeff.

But there was this one guy toward the back of the room who kept making comments. Totally ambiguous comments, though. I couldn’t tell if they were directed at me, or were part of his conversation with his friend, but they always seemed to come out just as Sasha and I were walking by. If I hadn’t been so drunk, I’d be able to remember precisely what he said. (Kidding!)

Honestly, I think everything went well. Sasha had gotten her exercise, and I’d gotten to hang out with a new friend. We were out of there at 5:30, with no fireworks and no tears. And, if this weather keeps up, we’ll be back there before long. Cheers!


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