On the way to a sixth birthday party.
Back home in Mississippi, people often ask me what it's like to raise a kid in New York City. That's not really an answerable question, I think, except maybe with one example after another.
The other day our son, Nathaniel, turned six. A few people still hold birthday parties at home, but by this point the kids are getting big enough that 15 of them can't fit all that well into a New York City house.
Instead, we loaded the cake and balloons and party favors (a flower in a pot for each kid) into the wagon that we use instead of a car. Nathaniel wanted to haul it himself, and he did. He pulled that wagon (most of) the mile to the tumbling studio where he takes a class each week. The weather was wet and windy, and the balloons were uncooperative. But he did it.
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