Kid, Gloves

I left the house this morning rather impressed with myself, as I realized that I still have the same leather gloves I bought before Xmas last year. Hanging on to a pair of gloves (hat, umbrella, etc) for a full year is an unprecedented accomplishment for me. A couple of years ago, I almost made it through the winter with the same pair of gloves, but I dropped one on the subway platform and just as I reached for it, a passing train blew it onto the tracks. I stood up and cursed and threw its companion after it, scaring the lady next to me.

So my mood unreasonably elevated by my triumphant glove-having, I left the apartment and fell into step behind a nanny walking an unreasonably perky 5-year old girl. The girl was holding the nanny's hand as she skipped down 68th Street, calling out to everything she passed by.

"Hello Mr. Bus!"

"Hello Mr. Garbage Truck!"

"Hello Mr. Mailbox!"

At the corner of Third Avenue, I stepped into the street next to the kid. She looked up at me and beamed.

"Hello Mr. Daddy Man!"

Clearly, this kid has been to the Eagle.