Closet Ninja

I have convinced my boys that I was a ninja assassin before I married their father. It is a good ploy and works well most of the time to help me keep their rowdiness in check. Yesterday, after a series of unfortunate events, the king of all unfortunate events happened; our car broke down on the Triboro Bridge in NYC. Harlem to be exact, in intense stop and go traffic, that we had already been stuck in for an hour and a half just trying to go five miles. As the car died, K and I just looked at each other in disbelief. After tossing a few ideas back and forth we realized that we were not far from the train station at Harlem and 125th and that luckily, a jogging/bicycle path runs alongside the FDR. We decided that I would walk to the train station with the kids and head home, and that he would stay with the car waiting for the tow truck. The jogging path is grandly titled an “esplanade” in the many posted placards and notices to not allow your dog to poop on the trail, as if walking on an esplanade is grander than walking on a regular old walking track.


The kids and I set off on the esplanade and began to make our way over through the streets of Harlem. That was an adventure in itself, but it was a nice neighborhood and we walked as fast as we could in order not to miss our train. I had to clarify directions a few times with some of the beat cops patrolling the neighborhood, but finally, from about 2 blocks away, we could see the train tracks.

It was at that corner, that we passed the first collection of  huddled of ne’er-do-wells. Ry turns to me deadpan and asks, “Mom, how many can you take?” I took a close look at the guys and said to him, “at least five or six.” He turns to Reag and says, “Mom has most of them, and I can get two. Can you get one?” Reag said that he could and so we progressed on toward the train with the boys secure in my abilities to kill with my secret ninja skills. Luckily, the dudes were cowed by our keen skills and continued smoking and talking without bugging us at all. Just a warning, you should be afraid, be very, very afraid of the secret mommy ninja. Laters.