Big Trucks in the Big Apple

DAY 1: Sunday, October 18, 2009

We landed in New York late on Sunday afternoon, gathered our six checked bags and six carry-ons plus the stroller, bid farewell to our new toddler friend and her parents from the Upper West Side, and hailed a taxi into the city from JFK. Tucker talked to the taxi driver--who said no more than two words--the whole time. He told him about the big airplane he took from Charlotte to New York; that Henry, who squirmed for the entire 45 minutes, was his brother and that he was going to be a big dragon while Henry was going to be a little dragon for Halloween; that he (Tucker) was going to see the Statue of Liberty and Central Park and lots of rats and taxis. Then, realizing that the driver wasn't listening, Tucker, of course says, "Mommy, what's his name? Why doesn't he talk?" "I don't know his name. You'll have to ask him." And the questions continued. Oh, to be two and brutally honest! Finally, we made it to our new home away from home. Once inside our cozy one-bedroom on Sixth Avenue, Tucker and Henry played with their BIG trucks, welcome gifts from DaDa, and Wes and I figured out where to store all of the stuff contained in our 12 bags. Amazingly, everything fit! On to the next problem...dinner. The fridge was far from fully-stocked, so we feasted on takeout from a quaint cafe on the other side of Greeley Square. The gourmet macaroni and cheese was a huge hit with our resident dairy king Henry, and Tucker loved the mini-cheeseburgers. It was almost as if we were at Barbara Walters' house, savoring the elegant comfort food hors d'oeuvres she's famous for serving. Maybe we can get on her invitation list before we leave. Or maybe not. We'll look into it tomorrow. Goodnight, New York.