Why is Robert's protracted convalescence a good thing? One, he tires out a lot sooner than usual, giving Mama and me a lot more Couple Time. And two, when he passes out in his clothes, we avoid the Sturm und Drang of the bedtime ritual and he wakes up dressed and ready for Bagels With Butter TM. As long as you don't mind a little funk, it's a win-win.
This morning, the BWB tour branched out to the Big Bagel Place up the street. We don't go there very often, because a trowelful of cream cheese somehow transforms an ordinary, 90-cent bagel into a $3.50 "sandwich." But it's a little farther away from our local, so we can use the trike and burn off a few Kiddie Kilowatts. It's also half a block from the policy academy, and Robert likes to marvel at the uniforms and myriad beltwear.
When we got there, the place was packed with wannablues, and we found a table next to two cadets who happened to be identical twins. If the NYPD doesn't have some sort of Perp Confusal Unit, made up solely of twin interrogators, it should. The good-cop-bad-cop routine would be weird and disorienting enough to draw out all kinds of confessions. I happened to mention this to the twins, and they were surprisingly receptive. They must not be that far into their training.
Then, a conversation on the way home, as we waited for Walking Guy to let us cross 20th Street:
Robert: "Why are all the cars going that way?"
Me: "This is a one-way street. The cars only go one way."
Robert: "But on the other street, they go the other way."
Me: "Right. That's also a one-way street, but in the other direction."
Robert [pointing to Third Ave.]: "But these cars are going both ways."
Me: "Right again. This is a two-way street, and then it becomes one-way."
Robert: "Oh. Hey Daddy?"
Me: "Yes?"
Robert: "New York is confusing."
