We survived our East Coast tour only to return home and have a huge, four-family garage sale for three-days that almost killed me. Sitting in a dirty garage selling junk to your neighbors might sound like a fantastic time, but it's a lot of hard work. I'm at the level of exhaustion where you can't really sleep, because you're too wound up from all the caffeine you had to drink in order to stay awake. I won't complain too much though, because I made some cash money at the sale and I had a fabulous vacation.
Like the President and Vice President, Nick and I took separate flights and trains on our trip, because he had to actually work in New York and Henry and I could afford to travel more leisurely. Ever the experienced flyer, Henry surprised me, as I was fumbling for my clear bag of 3oz liquids, by taking off his own shoes, placing them in the bin and sending them, along with Smelly Cow, through the x-ray machine. He's quite grown up and a total pleasure to travel with on my own. He understands that he can't turn on his DVD player until cruising altitude and wouldn't dream of kicking the seat in front of him. I can't help but brag about my little tourist.
And he finally understands that New York is a city, not a hotel. A city where you fold your pizza.
So after I taught Henry the proper way to eat a slice, buy a metrocard and hail a taxi, we found out that we won't be moving back to New York this summer after all. Had I mentioned that we might? I think I hinted at it, but it looks like we get to stay in Minneapolis for a bit longer or maybe even forever. I just don't know.
