My day was . . . an event.  I am not sure I will soon forget today.

We found a DS for R (he lost his red one) on Craigslist and hopped on the train to go to Park Slope, Brooklyn.   We got there pretty quick and went directly to the wrong house, but it wasn't sad because the man whose home it was (I think) had this amazing collection of bizarre and interesting sculptures that were interactive. He was on the phone when we rang his bell and he told me I had the wrong house--but then came out to show the kids the sculptures--even to the extent that he told the person on the phone that he would call them back---WOW!! I love people like that.  He made it so fun for the kids.

Then we got back on the sidewalk and headed to the right house, but wrong level. When they say first floor--it is important that they say ground level--the door is under the stairs--yes, under.  S walked through the gate to the "yard" a 4x4 piece of concrete and found the door for us.  Then $50, one DS and six games later (sweet deal), we left happy hearted to go to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. . . only we didn't make it.

Take the picture already! I. need. food. now.

It was a gloriously beautiful day, the perfect day to have off! The leaves were dangling precariously from the trees some wafting down on the dancing wind (yes--they looked like they were dancing--ballroom style--not tap dancing). 

This is my you-really-should-have-fed-me-five-minutes-ago-pose.

But, lo and behold as soon as we get on our way to Prospect park . . . a severe case of starvation struck my kids and I.  Grouchiness set in like a plague and in a desperate effort to preserve any sense of sanity through the dramatic howls of hunger like "Mooooooom, I need food NOW!" "I'm SO THIRSTY!" and "Can't we get any food yet?!" 

I boldly pressed forward my hands cuffed around their wrists to get water and a muffin--a severely over priced muffin that made me wince to buy--but it tasted decent.  What is the big deal about being across the street from the park--why does that automatically give them the right to overcharge exponentially?!  Don't answer that--I wasn't really wondering, I was just venting.

I will not move until you pick me up. I need a nap. I need food. I need water. I need  . . .  you , Mom!

Between the yowls I attempted my assuage. "Children (Mooooooooooooooooooooom), Let's think of things we are grateful for (I'm SOOOOOOOOOOO STARVING! [This is so loud, people three streets over can hear it and turn their heads to see].  I'm grateful for you and (CAN'T WE EAT! GIMME A DRINK! GOLDFISH!!!) my camera and prayer and patience and chocolate [in my head I'm praying--please decently priced food--somewhere now!].

Okay, so you get the idea.  We need nutriments instantaneously!

We walked to the ball parks where they have the summer concerts and sat and ate the lemon poppyseed overpriced muffin and then walked across the park. . . slowly . . . everyone and their dog, cat, aunt, uncle, grandpa, and neighbor Hildegard passed us.

T began picking up rocks and told me, "This is my rock correction (collection)."

See the rock correction at my feet?  It took me five minutes to get that and an hour to carry  it it.

Don't touch my rocks. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Several times I tried to convince him that bringing the rocks with us was really not necessary. I took a picture of them and now we know exactly where to come if we need them again.  That kid knows me like a book. He put them gingerly down--added a pretty leaf or two, let me take a picture and then picked them all back up and carried them ten feet behind the rest of us, bless him. [Sigh].

Oh, thank you--I think.

Then we got to the lake.  All memories of rocks were forgotten--it was all about the ducks and swans.  Seriously.  They began to beg me for the goldfish to feed the swans--and I really don't want to get in trouble by a hidden park authority or some random environmentalist that feels that feeding goldfish to anyone let alone a duck or a swan is a mortal sin. . . so I kept them.

Somehow both Roscoe and Sarah ended up getting swan nipped any way. . . but they say it didn't hurt.  I think the swans were annoyed, "Hello--do I look like I eat stinkin' leaves?  I can get a leaf anywhere dope--feed me the good stuff--whatever you've got that is edible."  Then the swan would swim over to the other swan and I am sure that wing lift and low quacks were code for "Don't go over there--it's nothing--seriously--they tried feeding me like five leaves."

After R stepped into the water by accident and was terrified that there was a leech in his sock I peeled the kids away from the lake hollering and bemoaning the loss of the biting swans--we checked the sock and kept walking across the park.

Finally I saw signs of an intersection and decided it was time to go--much to S's seemingly unending chagrin.  We trudged over to the station, got on a train and went home.  Phew!

The kids forgot all their hunger and strife when I let them both go to Activity Days.  All is forgiven.