Potatoes in the Mist

Thursday nights, I teach a yoga class in an upscale building. When I got into the lobby and was waiting for the elevator, I saw a girl of about 11. She had the jaded look of a child model. In fact, she looked a bit like Mariel Hemingway...wide-spaced eyes, high cheekbones. Her little sister (maybe five or six?) was prancing around with a stuffed animal peeking out of her jacket pocket. I sensed a kindred spirit and smiled at her; she smiled back. In the elevator, she threw her arms around her older, taller sister and rested her head on her tummy. She looked up all wide-eyed and asked, "Do you have a heart in your body?" The jaded sister replied, " Yes, Anne, I have a heart in my body" in an oh-my-god-you're-a-moron tone. I felt bad for the little sister, but after a moment she collected herself, and went over to the elevator panel to read quietly. "Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one," she chanted softly as the floors went by. I always love little kids li...

So I'm not going to meet the three-year-old tonight. Hopefully I'll meet her another time. I did hear a fun story about her, though. Today the little girl visited the publication where her mother works. She met the editor-in-chief. Their conversation went as follows: Editor-in-chief: You're cute! Three-year-old: You're cute! I bet the editor was happy to hear that :) For lunch, I had one of my favorite meals ever: a signature salad from Cosi (greens, grapes, pears, dried cranberries, and pistachios) and a slice of their bread, fresh from the oven. There are very few things better than that.

Just spent the day in Philadelphia. I had a good time with D's cousin's daughter, Dalia. She came in, looking shy around all the big scary people (I felt the same) so I whisked her to the hall, where we played with her Little Mermaid doll and talked. In case you're wondering, the doll has detachable red hair, a small purple bra and a turquoise-green sea tail. I wondered if Little Mermaid can switch hair colors...why make it detachable, after all? Dalia explained, "Belle has brown hair, Cinderella has blonde hair and Snow White has black hair." I now consider myself an expert. At any rate, I tickled her at dinner and felt a small protuberance on her belly. She has an outie! D asked me if I knew any adults with outies, and I could remember a childhood friend who had one. I don't know if she still does. And so, I ask...do you have an innie or an outie, and has it always been that way? :)

Today D and I had lunch at one of our favorite spots, Red Bamboo. They're vegetarian and have the best fake chicken parm in town (perhaps the only one; I think the other place closed). Anyway, a little kid caught our attention during the meal. D asked me how old I thought she was. I pointed out that she was standing, and could probably toddle around, but she was tiny, so maybe two? When I walked by their table to the restroom, I saw her close up, with a French fry in her hand. She had bitten the top off and was staring at it contemplatively. She was wearing tiny gold earrings (interestingly, so were both her parents). Very cute. D said then that an infant boarding school might not be a bad idea. They come back when they're toilet trained and sleeping through the night. I agree. I like kids, and spending time with them. In some ways, I prefer them to adults. But the pregnancy, diapers and sleepless nights scare me.

It is definitely the sniffles time of year. In class tonight, there was a whole fusillade of them. (Okay, I just wanted to use the word "fusillade"). On the subway on the way over, a father and child sat next to me. The child, a little boy, was upset because he wasn't on the side of the car where there are windows. (Never mind that we were going through a completely dark tunnel...he wanted a window!) Child: (in injured tones) Those people have windows. Father: (sympathetically) I know. Child: They're not even using them. It's not FAIR. Father: A lot of adult maneuvers aren't fair. Child: Adults are badder than kids. Father: There's more than a smidgen of truth in that. Then the train went above ground...it goes along one of the bridges between Manhattan and Brooklyn...I think it's the Williamsburg Bridge. It is a pretty view. The kid and father stood up and went to look out the window. I was glad he was getting so much joy out of it. I remember when we...