The Parenting Perks of New York City

This morning, my wife texted me in a panic because she couldn’t find her membership card to the Staten Island Children’s Museum she wanted to visit with our kids.

Later, she texted me a photo of my 7-month-old at a museum, putting some filth-ridden toy in his mouth, the goofy idiot. I texted back, both to insult my son for being a goofy idiot and to ask at which museum she’d ended up, because I knew she’d never found her membership card.

I also knew that didn’t matter. Because we live in New York City.

18 Apr

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline One comment

Apartment Hunting, the Hard Way

We’ve moved! Mostly.

Right now, we are in limbo at my parents in CT while I commute to Manhattan during the week and hunt for a Brooklyn apartment on the weekend. (Yup, from BK to NC and back again.) It’s stressful and exhausting and it generally sucks, for everyone except my son. He gets to spend all day with Grandma, gorging on juice boxes and cracker parties and chocolate chip cookies. He’s like a pig in shit. But he’s wiping my parents out.

To offer them a reprieve, sometimes Detective Munch comes down to NYC too. And if you thought apartment hunting in NYC was hard, try doing it with a 3yo by your side.