People, at 6:45 this morning, our babysitter, the second one, the one who was supposed to be at our house a mere 2.25 hours later, canceled. It was so absurd that I cracked up. I mean, it's not like Tom and I were trying to go out for a coffee date. We are GOING TO NEW YORK. I called Grandpa and said the children would be there seven hours earlier than expected, and he was so dear and said "Sure thing, let me just run to the store first. I'm getting ready." T ran the boys over and found that his dad had even remembered to buy Ol's lactose-free milk. I could die.
So, we are finally on the flipping train, have already made a reservation at Danny Meyer's new spot, Marta. It opened in September and is his first pizzeria. We.are.psyched. and I plan to spend part of this ride lustily studying the menu in drooly-mouth anticipation.
I hope we get to take a quick spin through the Greenmarket before it closes, maybe take a nap too, and then we'll get all gussied up and head to Brooklyn to celebrate friends and also the fact that we actually got out of town!