Yesterday, amid downtown's already painfully slow road construction, a water main burst, resulting in yet another road block on one of the multiple route choices to get to the yW. While we were waiting in a stand-still left hand turn lane, Henry saw a motorcycle on the road and said, “Look! A bicycle on the road!” And I said, “That’s actually a motorcycle.” So he said, “No! I think it’s a bicycle!” For some reason, I couldn’t let it drop, so I said, “It really is a motorcycle.” There was a long pause and then Henry said, “You’re being mean.” I disagreed, and we were both quiet for a while longer while we sat in line to turn onto Park Avenue. Then he said, “Look! I see smoke! I see smoke, and I see you being mean!”
Nice segue, smarty pants. (And I never caught site of any smoke, either.)
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