
My son, as it's turning out, is not a morning person. From the moment he woke this morning, he behaved like an obstinate little bastard. After throwing several moany tantrums, making his big sister repeatedly cry and spitting out most of his breakfast, it became glaringly apparent that our little lad needed some air. So I strapped him into the stroller, and he and I set off for a nice, relaxing morning stroll through the East Village. The streets at this early hour were pr...
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