Daddy was late today! I couldn't wait to tell him all about the letter H. Mrs. Keller had drawn this humongous H on the chalkboard, and my best friend Jodie and I were the first ones with our hands up to tell her what letter it was. Mrs. Keller called on Jodie, because she's a little taller than me and didn't shake her hand around as much. But then she asked me how I knew what letter it was, and I told her how it was the beginning of my daddy's favorite word: humongous! Like when he has a humongous headache, or I'm taking humongous bites at dinner, or the pile of leaves we just raked is humongous! I couldn't wait to tell him, and he was late!

Raising a child in this city. . . Sometimes I wonder what Maggie and I were thinking. Our miniscule apartment, three floors to walk up, first with her ever-growing belly and then with that damn stroller for years, plus a child in tow. The prestigious child's-recliners that collapse into something slightly smaller but no less bulky, ugh. But there are more days than not that I realize every moment has been worth it, just to catch that one glance of blue-green innocence shine from her wide, trusting eyes into mine, waiting for an answer, the unquestionable truth. But on days like today when my meeting runs ten minutes over and I just miss my downtown train, all this running around for her wears on my last threads of sanity. At least we abandoned that stroller before she started kindergarten.

He still hasn't said he's sorry! Well, I can be in a bad mood, too. Unless we're crossing the street, I'm not going to hold his hand. Not until he apologizes. I won't look at him, I won't say anything. My arms are crossed, I'm going to wrinkle my nose if he says anything but an apology, and I know how to shake my head and wave his words away. I've seen him do it so many times during those humongous headaches.

Right after the first sonogram, we started looking for schools. We probably ought to have started the minute we saw both those lines on the pregnancy test. Parallel lines of potential bliss but guaranteed worries. First, second, and third choice grade schools fell by the wayside, and this fourth one is furthest from our apartment. My office is actually closer to home, a lot closer, and I can't even read the paper on the train any longer since I have to make sure Sophie hasn't gotten herself abducted. The cutest little thing, I can hardly believe she's part me, but I'd have a tenth of these gray hairs if we lived upstate. And half the paycheck.

Where are we going? We never walk this way. We always go down the subway on the excavator, after we pass the movie theatre and three pizza places. We never go by this bookstore! Daddy says that there are too many "shady characters" hanging out front, digging through the cheap books for buried treasure. I don't know what shady characters really are, but I think that one over there must be. His big yellow hat makes him look like a fisherman! He has a scratchy-looking beard, too, and maybe he has a wooden leg or something! He's leaning on that bookstand kinda funny, staring at this other guy with a coloring book. Wow, I have to tell Jodie all about this tomorrow!

One loaf of fresh bread for dinner and some fruit for tomorrow's packed lunches. Already behind schedule, I had to stop by for Sophie before completing the shopping list. And since she apparently is not talking to me, I suppose she'll just have to be surprised at where we're going. I'm sure she'll ask for grapes again. Who are these people that scavenge the $1.00 book racks for deals? The bargain hunters? The star-crossed book lovers? The perpetually homeless but well-read? Either way, they crane their necks like pack animals grazing, starving for one thing or another. I hope she doesn't notice them, hope she doesn't bring them up at dinner. Maggie's stare of where-did-you-take-her would just about kill me today.

Look! That man with the coloring book is shaking! Oh, maybe that isn't a coloring book. But it's not a book like Mommy and Daddy read. Big sheets of construction paper and lots of spaces between the lines with red scribbles all over the place. And parts of it are colored in! He just said "Dragon's Teeth"! How cool! He's so excited — I bet that he's been looking for that strange book forever!

"Dragon's Teeth"? Did that guy seriously just say that to himself? Wow, he's probably some heavy D&D player who barely finished college and can't let go of his imaginary world. Pathetic is probably the only word at my disposal that thoroughly describes him. Lurching over some manuscript he finds for one buck on a dusty street rack, mumbling to himself about dragons and visibly shaking with excitement. And then there's Old Sparky, somehow missing his canary yellow rain slicker today, looming over the books to make sure none get stolen, seeming even more like a homeless guy than the homeless guys he's paid to shoo away.

Oh, he has a letter, too! Wow, it looks like he's read it a gazillion times. Maybe he is comparing the handwriting in the letter to the scribbles, just like on television! He's probably some kind of detective, solving a big case, trying to catch some shady characters. I bet I bet I bet that the fisherman is one of the bad guys! He'll probably steal the coloring book thing from Mr. Detective now that he knows he has the letter! This is more exciting than school!

And he has notes in his pocket. Great. He's probably making a genealogy of dragons and their slayers dating back to pre-elven times, or some shit. And now he's got his phone out to send a bulletin to his geek-squad basement-dwelling friends. And now Sophie looks as excited as he does, just witnessing the spectacle. Wonderful. I'm never going to a 4:00 meeting ever again. And we better get into that private middle-school uptown. "Sophie, come on. I'm sorry I was late picking you up, but we're going to be late for dinner. Mommy wants us to grab some bread and some fruit for your lunch tomorrow. What kind do you want? Come on, we have to cross the street."

"Daddy, did you see that man with the coloring book? I think he's a. . . Grapes! A humongous bunch of fat green grapes that we can pick off the stem and rinse tomorrow as we make breakfast! Mrs. Keller called on me today to describe the letter H! Guess what I said! I said my Daddy's favorite. . . "