Page 476 - WhyAsInY

Why (as in yaverbaum)
The net result of the “visitation” arrangements was to give me more time, more continuous time, and less intermediated time than I had ever spent with the children. And, while there were difficult moments, I believe that both the kids and I look back upon our time at 45 West 60th Street and on our trips with a good deal of nostalgia. I was in charge (to the extent that they permitted it), and the rules were far fewer than they had been accustomed to. And the fun was spontaneous: unplanned trips to Yankee Stadium (believe it or not, less than fifteen minutes away); to see Spaceballs and other movies at Columbus Circle; to shop at Pottery Barn; to watch Greta Waitz and others compete in the New York City Marathon, which finished only a few hundred yards from the apartment; walking with Peter, at his insistence, to a game store on West 57th dur- ing a Sunday rainstorm, hoping that it would be open and would have a Super Monopoly game for sale (miraculously, it was and it did); assem- bling all of the coins so that Peter or Rachel could make a trip downstairs to Sims, not only to get rid of pennies, nickels, and dimes, but also to find an appealing snack; going to the playground; taking a carriage ride; rid- ing on the carousel in Central Park; buying Cabbage Patch twins (Rachel) and other toys at FAO Schwarz (everyone); buying earrings for Rachel at Lang-Lang; watching Isaac Stern at Carnegie Hall (all of us, seated in a corner box, just like the old men in The Muppet Show); going to the New York Philharmonic on select Thursday nights (Peter); help- ing to furnish the apartment with a cot, which we accomplished by wheeling it on the sidewalk to West 60th from Sleepy’s at West 72nd; celebrating birthdays with the Beatles’ White Album music and candle- lighted cupcakes; and eating, eating, eating: those cupcakes, complete with their favorite ice cream (which we referred to as “Peanut Butter Horse Manure,” served with a “pooper scooper”); homemade root beer floats; ice cream at Sedutto’s; sushi delivered from Columbus Avenue (where they recognized my voice when I’d call in an order); Chinese food delivered from Empire Szechuan (where they didn’t) or “eaten in” at Seven Woks or The Peking Duck; fettuccini Alfredo, lemon veal, and spaghetti with meat sauce, all made by the group; pancakes cooked to order, with special attention paid to making sure that Rachel’s would be
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