F-ing the Effing F Train
In retrospect, it was obviously all my fault. As I sat on the bench in the East Broadway station, with Sasha at my side munching on her Chinese bakery sweet bun, I thought I might be able to quickly check … Continue reading
In retrospect, it was obviously all my fault. As I sat on the bench in the East Broadway station, with Sasha at my side munching on her Chinese bakery sweet bun, I thought I might be able to quickly check … Continue reading
A couple of weeks ago, Jean, Sasha, and I were riding the F train. We do this a lot. It goes where we want to go, generally, and takes us back to where we live. I don’t know where we … Continue reading
Not a fun morning. Fifteen minutes after Jean left to take Sasha to school, she returned. Sasha, it appears, had been grabbing her butt and complaining it hurt too much to walk. Again. FUCKING AGAIN. This is becoming an all-too-regular … Continue reading
The weather in New York has been warm and gorgeous of late, and that means the beginning of a particularly NYC-ish phenomenon: screaming about the overreach of entitled parents in Brooklyn! I’m just kidding—that’s a year-round phenomenon. But the latest … Continue reading