Sign of a good wife

On your way out the door to catch a train, knowing that you’ll be gone until quite late and she’s stuck with the kids on her own (both of which, you’ll later learn, need to be brought home from school suffering various ailments), she says, “Go and have coffee in Bryant Park,” knowing it’s about my favorite thing in the world to do. And so I did. There was even poetry, it having been “Poem In Your Pocket Day.”