Brief preface: My oldest son Jackson goes to an all-boys K-8 school called Buckley, whose chief rival is another K-8 boys school on the Upper East Side, St. Bernard's.On Saturday after dinner, Jackson and I decided to take a little post-meal scooter ride. It was a beautiful evening and we headed straight for Central Park, where we rode to Belvedere Castle & the Great Lawn before the sun set and it was time to come home.
Jack's been on crutches and in a booty for a couple of weeks because of a slightly underdeveloped bone in his left foot, which, the doctor tells us, is quite normal for boys his age and will resolve itself soon. For this reason, Jack and I were on the same scooter - him in front, me in back pushing.
As we were coming home on 72nd Street, we hit a slick piece of pavement just after crossing Park Avenue and took a nasty spill. He
was bleeding and crying, I was bleeding, we were a mess.
A kind, well put-together woman in her 40s and her son, who was in coat and tie, stopped to help us. After checking to see how we were, she started looking through her purse for something to help stop the bleeding.
After a few moments, she pulled something out and said to me, "I hope you're not a Buckley family, because all I have is this St. Bernard's napkin!"
2 comments:
That's funny. I hope you told her you were from Buckley. Too bad you weren't wearing Buckley paraphernalia. That would have been a true Good Samaritan story!
I told her to get the hell away from me
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