Every year, the night before the Macy's Thanksgiving parade, the balloons for the parade are inflated on the Upper West Side where New Yorkers and throngs of tourists can have a little preview of what's to come. Every year I say "Patrick, we should go over to the balloon festival." And every year I either come up with a ridiculous last minute excuse (it's too far, I just started a load of wash...etc) or Patrick is working. But not this year! This year I was determined to impart Thanksgiving cheer unto my offspring and as luck would have it, Patrick got out of work early. Nothing could keep us from the magic of inflatable cartoon characters. As we left 310, a cold mist began to spray from the sky but we were undeterred. Darkness began to fall, as it does at 4:30 these days, and yet we were unswayed. Gigantic balloons awaited. Even when Katelyn began to demand "Walk. Walk. WAAAAALLLLLK" we stayed the course. No, nothing could stop us.
Except, of course, a crowd of 800 million people.
The line to enter "The Balloon Viewing" was so long, we immediately aborted the mission. Soggy, tired, and anxiety ridden, we made haste back to the Upper East Side. It wasn't all for naught though; I came away with a "I was a naughty elf in 2009" button and a paper princess crown that Katelyn found so objectionable that she immediately threw it out of the stroller. Happy Thanksgiving Josts!
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