Manchild wants to take a tour of Manhattan. In one of those double-decker buses.
He’s very disappointed that we only went to the beach once this summer and has determined that next year, we will do it right. Next year, we’ll take turns choosing which beach to go to until everyone has a turn to pick.
He has asked me half a dozen times why we didn’t go berry picking this July like we did the year before. I’ve answered half a dozen times that it was bad timing with Little Miss due to be born the same time the berries were ripening.
Also, he would like to go to all the museums and all the parks and all the events and all the everything.
But time is precious. Seasons change. Transporting a family of 5 without a car takes planning. Museums are expensive. We have more pressing issues, previous engagements.
Still, I don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade. So I say we’ll look into. We’ll have to see what the hours are, or how much the tickets cost, or if we can get there by train.
I’m glad that he let’s me know what he wants to do, that he keeps asking about it, that he has no idea what a challenge it can be to make these things happen.
Because, to be honest, I want to go everywhere and do everything and spend the whole summer at the beach and find out what it is they tell tourists as they’re riding around the city in those buses, too. I want to be a kid again, sometimes, some ways, and what better way of doing that than going on every adventure you can find?