Last Thursday we were a little disappointed with the west end farmer's market. So yesterday we headed over to the farmer's market on the east side. And it was glorious! All the locally grown food you could ask for. Locally roasted coffee. Live music. A fancy playground. We even bumped into a vendor that we used to carry at our shop in Maine. This trip also resulted in our first real parenting quandary.
You see, this morning we asked the lil' man the same question we ask him every morning. "Do you want to go to the playground?" He replied, "Farmer's market playground." Apparently he was delighted by his first taste of the east side. What have we done? What do we do? Which playground experience is more appropriate to mold our lil' man into the big man we want him to become?
Do we ...
Hop in our car. Drive over to the east side where there is: green grass, live music, children that are actually accompanied by parents, a water feature for kids to frolic, the fanciest jungle gym I've ever seen, and a swing (Yeah, imagine that. A fucking swing at a playground). It's safe, clean, and lots of fun.
Or ...
What we've been doing since our arrival. Hop on daddy's shoulders. Walk one and a half blocks to our west end park where: we clean up trash (But we don't throw it all away. We keep the cups and plastic spoons so the kids have something to play with in the sandbox), most children aren't accompanied by parents, there isn't a swing, there is an adequate jungle gym, and it IS DIVERSE. But honestly, after the lil' man has swept the playground for trash, which he instructs daddy to "Throw it away daddy. Put it in the trash can"—he is mostly interested in chasing pigeons. He REALLY wants to touch a pigeon, good luck buddy.
We went to the west end park ... We moved to the west end to experience something different. Something other than living in a tall glass of milk. This is good for the lil' man. Isn't it?
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