DAY 33

As I teetered around on my heels as I balanced in the center of the train car, I looked down and noticed a three-year-old boy deep in thought. He held onto his dad's hand and sometimes let go to play with his goatee. The train stopped at Fulton Street and they both stood up and pushed to the door. I was lost in Duran Duran so I did not notice that dad got off and the boy, who wore in a cute lime green puffer coat, was still on the train! (slight panic during "Girl Panic")

BUT the boy was holding the hand of a beautiful young woman who could not have been older than 20. She was complaining to another woman about the baby-daddy:

And his family just don't care! They say he already has two other kids so mine don't matter. A boy before and a girl after. When I brought my son to his grandmother's house, she looks down at him and says to me, 'aren't you gonna watch him'. They don't care at all! She could just say hi, how are you.