Megan vs The Children of New York

You knew I couldn't stay away for too long.


So I moved home from Boston this past weekend. Other than a meltdown over a cupcake, it has been relatively uneventful.

Figure 1: The cupcake in question. My good friend, Jessica Wanda, bought it for me as a going away present. Although my instinct was to eat it the second I opened the box, I waited so I could show it to everybody I knew. Despite talking about the cupcake for two days straight, right before we left, I popped it back into the fridge while I got coffee with my parents. About 45 minutes into the drive home, I realized that the cupcake was still in Boston. Remember that episode of Friends where Ross has a breakdown when somebody eats his turkey sandwich at work? Well, yeah. I remember that, too.

Back in early April, I signed up to volunteer in Chelsea with little kids doing arts and crafts. I got to the after school center with no problem, and as I sat waiting for the kids, I started to get a little excited. The other volunteers had all volunteered there before, and they seemed happy to be back. I saw a line of little kids parade through the sitting where we were waiting, and they all looked so adorable. Oh how naive of me.

One little kid was yelling at the top of his lungs for no reason. I should have known then. That was Enrique, my new buddy.

I would like to say that beneath these kids wild exteriors were little hearts of gold, but I cannot lie. They were bastards. Every last one of them.

I sat on a tiny chair for an hour while the kids slapped each other, tried to stand on the table, ratted out the 30-year-old volunteers to their teachers for being "mean," threw whatever they could get their hands on, ripped the paper we were supposed to play pictionary with, and tried to steal art supplies.

The hour was up and the moderators returned. The kids turned on their angelic expressions once again, and the moderator thanked the volunteers for giving our time. The other volunteers smiled and said how much fun they had and said goodbye to their kiddies.

I waved once, and ran like a bat out of hell. I don't think I felt safe until I was on the subway, speeding away from those kids as fast as possible.