Running

In the New York area -- especially at the end of the day -- you can always tell the dads apart from other commuters. They are the ones running, bags in hand, coats flapping in the wind, grunting to make the train, to get to their cars first to beat the crush out of the parking lot, because the ten minutes associated with waiting for a light twice could be 50% of the time you might have with a kid.

Women by and large don't do this. Perhaps because of their shoes. The childless are undermotivated.

Apologies if the blog is rather commute focused. Can't blog about work, daren't about marriage, and lunch is a commodity.

Perhaps I'll find some chestnuts soon in our bathroom renovation.

Now must go wash hair in sink.