The Whoopie Pie

During our trip to Boston we stopped at Quincy Market for some refreshment. We were weary from our explorations and were pleased to find a scrumptious little pastry place in the food court. After finding a semi-clean place to sit and rest, we sent the menfolk out with a list of pastries to acquire. To our credit, Mom and I only called them once on the cell phone to request additional items (milk and bottled water...ah, the life of the pampered.)

Dad and Jason returned with one of those beautiful white bakery boxes full of joy...aka, an almond cannoli, a chocolate eclair and a mini Boston-creme pie (when in Rome...). I almost wept. Did I mention I love pastries? One of the items the men returned with was a Whoopie Pie. Mom and I saw it in the display case on our way in and felt it deserved closer examination. It was a dense chocolate-cake sandwich with thick frosting inside. After sampling every item in the box and then devouring the eclair (Sorry Mom), I decided to turn the remnants of the Whoopie Pie over to Joshua and see what he would do. As you can see, he enjoyed himself thoroughly. And no, Lindsay, he is not in a sugar coma as the last picture might suggest. He just has a hard time keeping his eyes open when I take a picture using the flash. Although, I will admit he does look slightly inebriated. I think we were all a little woozy after that sugar smorgasbord.

After this tour de force through the world of desserts, Dad and Jason suggested we walk back to our hotel. They assured us it would be an easy ten-minute jaunt. How could Mom and I refuse after the number of calories we had just consumed? Besides we didn't want to appear wimpy. Unfortunately, ten minutes later we were still battling a stiff wind off the Charles River and relying solely on the inner compasses of the men while catching only fleeting glimpses of our hotel in the distance.

When will we ever learn? This has happened before. How could we forget the late-night walk back to the Waldorf from the Empire State Building, or the time we tried to "cut through" Central Park. What about the time we wandered sweatily through the labyrinthine New York City subway tunnels? Should I even mention the apple orchard? Now I enjoy a relaxing walk as much as the next person. It's blithe wandering in an unfamiliar city that makes me a little nervous. Add small children and cold temperatures to the equation and well, you get the picture. I have prepared a response to future suggestions that we "just walk" and assurances that "we can find the way back."

"Have a lovely time walking. We'll take the kids and hail a cab. If we don't hear from you in an hour, we will send out a search party."