We are back.
Sigh. There is just nothing like a weekend in New York (or Yew Nork, as my kids like to call it). It is truly my favorite city in the entire world. Had a great time with my sisters-and-mother-in-law. Made some great memories. Ate some truly sinful food. Slept very little.
Some of the highlights were:
- Cold lemon chicken and a black and white polka dot dinner at Gabi's.
- Gabi's choreographed (and costumed) dance number during dinner.
- Heidi's lost luggage saga (never trust anyone named Doogan at the Delta Luggage Counter. He is lying when he says he will wait all night for your lost suitcase).
- Shopping for hours at H&M.
- Giving Marta the "what no one will tell you" speech about child birth at 2 a.m. (and hoping she's now not too terrified to deliver baby Bruce).
- Never getting more than four hours of sleep at a time.
- The Dali Lama cab driver waxing philosophical on gay men and people that need medication in the city (like himself, maybe? Nah).
- Burgers at the Burger Joint in Le Parker Meridian.
- H&M some more.
- Books of Wonder and the Cupcake Bakery inside.
- Talking Oma into returning the $500 worth of exfoliation skin care products she didn't need from Bloomies.
- Laughing at the giant bra Gabi did buy at Bloomies.
- Pashminas on the street.
- Oma's crinkling cookie wrappers during the middle of A Chorus Line.
- More H&M (because clearly, if you don't buy everything in the store the first and second time, then a third trip is in order).
- Sweet potato fries with maple syrup dipping sauce.
- Dinner at Carnegie Deli at 10 p.m., where the sandwiches were the size of our heads.
- Getting dessert after eating sandwiches the size of our heads at 10 p.m.
- Running for the train at Penn Station and hoping Oma doesn't have a heart attack.
- Laughing until we cried.
- Crying until we laughed.
- Having fun, being together, and returning home safe and happy to our families (although some were still without luggage).
Thanks for the memories, girls. It was great to pretend to have sisters for a few days. Let's do it again soon.
Oh, and nothing says 'welcome home, mom' like a child vomiting in the car on the way home from the airport. Remember my last trip to New York when I came home to a vomiting child?
Why can't they throw up on the husband's watch? WHY?!