That's Just Wrong

Things so inappropriate, I wouldn't even do them:

- Taking pictures of the Dakota walkway where John Lennon was shot.

- Eating a bucket of prunes and then climbing into bed with my sister. Oh, wait. I did that one.

- Singing Imagine a cappella in Central Park at top volume in front of impressionable children.

- Giggling as people bust ass on the ice.

- Trying to dissect the socio-political commentary of a Broadway musical with relatives who would rather go to sleep. Oh, wait. I did that, too.

- Laughing as an aunt curses over inadequate sleeping arrangements. (I heard someone from my suite mumble, "At least you don't have to room with her.")

- Talking above a whisper at Ground Zero.

- Walking up to a tourist group comprised of young seminarians and saying with a wink, "Come here, boys. See what you're missing." Oh, wait...

- Not thanking my mother for a weekend I'll never forget.

- Not thanking Husband for guarding the home front that allowed me to shirk my responsibilities and have fun with the girls.

- Not hugging all three of my boys later this afternoon and telling them no matter how much fun I had, it's good to be home.