Bad planning led to me taking the boy on yet another cemetery tour. He was very good to his old Mama and fell asleep almost immediately. We caught a bus after and went into Oakland.
Oakland, My Oakland: I love you, I hate you. I gave you the best years of my life and you gave me The Beehive (now, tragically, a Verizon Wireless Store), 2am post coital O Fries, cheap apartments, sweet Italian landlords and the lily ponds of Schenley Park. But, Oakland, you are a very cruel hostess. THERE IS NO SHADE IN OAKLAND. Schenley Plaza, the new park in front of the library? No Shade. Schenley Park itself? Some shade if you want to drag your kid and his stroller up a hill. Phipps? In a Wildean page from "The Selfish Giant," Phipps has locked the gates of its little garden with the fountains and the Majestic Hornbeam. The message? Welcome! Enjoy your stay! And remember to leave after 20 minutes or you and your kid will be covered with skin cancer! I have to make the same assumption about the collective mindframe of the powers that be that I attribute to the lack of benches at bus stops: the type of people who wait at the bus stops are not the type of people we want waiting at bus stops. The type of people who would like to sit in the shade in a park are probably the sort of people who should just keep moving along, thank you... Needless to say I'm taking this personally.
When we gave Donny a bath tonight I noticed he had a farmer's tan on his chubby little baby arms. I feel like such a lousy mother.