The journey to Newark was itself somewhat circuitous. Having absconded with my spouse's vehicle, I braved the wilds of Northeast Philadelphia, where I collected not only Jack, but also her mother, her sister, and her niece, Ally. (Delightful people, one and all, and it is now clear how Jack turned out so spectacularly.) Installation of Ally's car seat befuddled us all for a time, but soon we were off, in search of the land of bears.
Um. Not that kind of bear.
The land of bears is near times square and grand central station, just across the street from a block that is affectionately called "Little Brazil." The Build-a-Bear store was huge and complex, and filled with may rooms and alcoves of adorable bears and dinosaurs and dolls. There was even a build-a-bear dungeon. Sans leather.
We wandered the streets of New York for a bit, found Grand Central Station and looked at the ceiling. Ally informed us that she was hungry "for real." And Jack decided that a fitting last meal could be had at Monster Sushi, which sits inappropriately in the midst of thousands of Brazilian restaurants in Little Brazil.
Whereupon we discovered that Ally loves tofu.
We dropped Jack at the airport.
And the sky, which had been valiantly holding back tears as we wandered around the city, wept.