My daughter has been planning her ninth birthday since she turned 8 and a quarter. If I heard the word, "Build-a-Bear" one more time I was going to scream. Her real birthday is in July so we just celebrated last week while school is still in session. I flew her mom up from Atlanta and we took Ava and four friends and her little brother to the biggest Build-a-Bear in the world, on the corner of 46th and 5th Avenue, the center of the universe. I have to say they treated her like a queen and she was so thrilled to have her parents together again. Chet has said that he wished, "you and mommy got un-divorced." I asked if he even remembered a time when we weren't together (she fled when he was six-months-old). Still, that was his wish.

Walking down Broadway I hold Chet's hand and their mom holds Ava's. There is a new hostess at my favorite French restaurant around the corner who is spectacularly beautiful. Whenever I pass by I try to make her fall in love with me with some variation on a magical glance. When we passed by, the four of us, the other day I dreaded that she will assume that we our marriage is still in tact. I wanted to go up to her and say, "Don't let appearances fool you. She left five years ago."

Her best friend from LA, Maddie, had come in for the party and spent the night. I had thought that she could go to school with Ava the next day but PS 87 didn't allow it, forcing me to play hooky. I took them and Chet to see a matinee of Nancy Drew, which was actually pretty good. Then, continuing my desire to visit New York like a tourist, we had lunch at the Hard Rock.