Solon, age 11
For the last few years, I've promised Solon that when he was just a little older he could come visit me in NYC, all by himself. I expected the magic age to be 12, but sister Sarah assured me he could handle it this summer and arranged for him to travel as an unaccompanied minor from Boston to NYC. Pretty impressive, I thought.
Those of you who know me know I don't spend weekends in NYC. I flee to the PA countryside, where the air is fresh and cool, I can swim in a lake that hasn't seen a motor since 1953, and the sunlight streams in through skylights and windows alike. But there are several things I'd do for Solon that I wouldn't do for just anyone.
Like tour the Times Square Toys R Us,
eat pizza al fresco on Broadway,
take Mr. Puffy Paws to see Mary Poppins with a special backstage tour courtesy of friend Ann (aka the Bird Woman),
play mini-golf and ride bikes on Governor's Island. I confess, I've wanted to visit Governor's Island for a few years. Never spending the weekend in NYC has a few (albeit VERY few) disadvantages.
We visited the Museum of Natural History, the Bronx Zoo
and cheered the Red Sox on to victory at Solon's first ever Big League baseball game. That's right, we're Bosox fans. Got a problem with that?
Just an ordinary weekend in the Big Apple. For me and Solon, anyway.