Mommy and I started a new Sunday tradition. I woke (us) up around 6:15 am and decided- what the heck? Why go back to sleep when Mommy could take me to Starbucks to read the Sunday New York Times?
Sure enough, that is just what she did (while gritting her teeth). I was so cute in my green hat and stroller that she melted as we walked through those doors. I was the most handsome fella in there (and there were all men, no kidding). Mommy ordered a mocha and grabbed a paper. Guess what- we had the WHOLE patio to ourselves. It was breezy and warm- perfect for sipping milk and mochas. Everything was going just swell until a train came by and WAAAHHHH I really had a meltdown. It only lasted a few minutes, though, because the train was cool to watch!
Unfortunately, our trip was cut short by my (this is so embarrassing) runny poop that leaked onto mommy's new pants. She had just opened the Styles section and there it was: poop is very in this season. Alas, without much sleep or any coffee, mommy forgot to put the wipes in her purse so we went home. (I asked her, "where is the diaper bag, mommy?" and she just shook her head).
I hung with G-dad and gram and watched tennis while mommy attempted a nap. Nadal beat Federer in three straight sets in the French Open- it was a puzzling, yet good game to watch. Tennis, like baseball, is near and dear to my heart as I remember the sounds from deep within mommy's womb.
Come to think of it, I really want to go to Paris. Roland Garros looked so cool. Mommy mentioned she knew someone there... when can we go, Mommy? I want to see the Louvre! But first, Fenway. And Aunt Miranda's apartment in Brooklyn... and the Zoo... or the ocean at Aunt Stephanie's... ah, the possibilities are endless. Oh, the places we'll go!
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