I've been walking this summer. Alot.

Mostly, I walk in the evenings after I've tucked the kids in for the night (please, don't call CPS. Steve stays in the apartment with the sleeping beauties). And on those evenings, I often walk past two men and their two beautiful golden retrievers. These men sit on the same bench each time I see them. They are relaxed, happy to be there, talking and laughing with whomever stops to say hello. The esplanade is their front porch and New York City is their small town. And sometimes I want so badly to join them on the porch that my feet involuntarily slow down as I pass. One of these nights, I will stop, and introduce myself, and pet their beautiful dogs. I'll ask them how long they've lived here and if they ever tire of watching the sun set behind the Statue of Liberty. We'll talk about the breeze and the boats and how you've got to keep an eye out or you'll get run over by the esplanade bikers. And I'll bet that they'll ask me about my "I Vote American Idol" tshirt. I won't blame them.