Left Alice’s Tea Cup, tummy full of tea and sparkles in my hair. Off to Central park we go, to walk off pumpkin pancake calories and to share one spot in New York City we still get lost in. And for that reason, we actually walk down the west side of Central Park for some time, from 74th to 103rd, just chatting about life, kids, this and that. The sun is shining and my hand is tucked through Hub’s arm, in his sweatshirt pocket. Love this time we can just stroll arm in arm without a care in the world. No where to rush to. No one to answer to.
Until nature calls. All that tea… It was inevitable. So we venture into the park in search of a public bathroom. The closest one is behind the tennis courts and as Hubs heads toward the men’s room, he says, “Five minutes. You have five minutes to write your next blog.”
“Haha.” I head over to the ladies’. Don’t even bother trying to pump out a blog after that first auto-correct nightmare. But I do check Facebook and post a few pics. As I scroll through and “like” a status here. A status there. A text straight from a Seinfeld episode comes through.
“Can you spare a square. No tp in here.”
I laugh so loud, he hears me. “Seriously?” I text back.
“No… but yur five mins are up. I’m waiting outside.” And that’s why he heard me laugh.
As we walk back through the park, Hubs asks, “Want to do push-ups?”
“Really?” I guess Touch Mudder’s June 1st arrival will be here in less than two months, birthday festivities can’t stop the 13 mile run broken up by 25 military style obstacles. Sounds like a lot of pain for little more gain than a neon orange headband with Mudder bragging rights. June 1st, baby. Ready or ready. Really need to get focused since my calf is better now.
I already knew he meant what he said before he dropped down and pumped out 80. Yep. That’s my Tough Mudder Hubby. So I stretched out a bit, then dropped to my hands, pulled my dress down to make sure I wouldn’t get arrested, and pumped out 42. For no particular reason. Just like that number. Yeah.
Only took five minutes. Between the both of us. And then we walked over to grab some lunch. Two hours had passed, and couldn’t believe it, but we were ready to eat again. All those push-ups I suppose. Yes. We actually did a second set outside the park. I know, sounds so hard-core. I’m actually more shocked that my husband who’s not nearly as crazy-extroverted as me, was willing to drop down and do push-ups in public. I think I’m rubbing off on him. I’ve heard that happens to couples married for years and years. This May will mark year fifteen.
We walk down several blocks, and Hubs hasn’t told me what or where we’re eating lunch. When we pass an Indian restaurant, I turn to walk in. He turns too. Away and keeps walking. A few more storefronts down, and he opens the door for me. Ethiopian.
“Oh no!” I squeal. “We used to joke about this when we were teens. So wrong, so wrong, I know. I’ll stop now.”
“Yeah. You should stop now.” Hubs reminds me we’re in public. “Should be good. A coworker’s mom lived there for a couple of years and highly recommended this place.”
Awash is the name of the eatery, and we a’washed yummy lamb curry, grilled beef, and Ethiopian, dosa-like bread all down with a glass of Californian Blackberry, honey red wine. Yum to the yum.
Bonus: the sweet waitress agreed to allow me to charge my iPhone there so we didn’t have to waste precious minutes taking a train crosstown to the Apple Store. And like a reminder that our final destination of the night is the Bulls’ game, a single red rose graces our table. Hubs pops it into his mouth, sideways, and points to his sweatshirt.
“Here’s hoping tonight’s the night.”
“Here’s hoping!” I click a pic, and we’re off to our final chapter of my birthday adventure.
Tummies full, we thank our waitress and head out to the sunshine. Couldn’t have asked for a sweeter day to celebrate my birthday. And to visit many worlds. Baby took me to see Alice in Wonderland. Then uptown to Central Park. And then across the ocean… to Ethiopia.
Off to Chicago now. Chi-town girl and boy living in Knicksville about to show off our red and black at the Barclay’s stadium. Come back on Friday to find out about our tiny (almost tragic) detour and the fun NBA game experience. Hint hint. Stood close enough to inhale the scent of roses. A rose. One Rose.
Ever get lost in Central Park? Where’s the strangest place you pumped out some push-ups? Ever try Ethiopian food?