Tomorrow, we head to the Thanksgiving Day parade. I love Thanksgiving in Manhattan, and I love taking the kids to see the floats, and having a romp in Central Park afterwards, climbing the big rock and visiting the Alice statue, then dining at my parents' place where I bring nothing but a measly pie and sometimes not even that. But last time we went to the parade, I had my single most revolting Ne York City experience. I have heard of other NYC experiences which are way more upsetting, surely. And I've heard of many which are equally revolting: my husband stepped in a pile of human shit in the subway a few months ago, for instance. But I'm not sure I've heard of any more revolting.
Because last Thanksgiving, while walking across the park at 57th street, which was closed to traffic, I stepped in something terrifically gooey. I slipped so violently I nearly hit the ground, much like the circus clown on a banana peel. My first thought was that I'd stepped inside a melted ice cream cone. But just as I was about to look down to check out what it was, my husband exclaimed, "Don't look!" And I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I had stepped directly inside the guts of a squashed rat.
So, this year, I'm keeping my eyes peeled. I'll be on the lookout for rat carcasses. And I suggest you do the same.
Happy Thanksgiving folks!
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