John's conference presentation day

The first day in Toronto and John is going to his conference, so me and the Bean are on our own.  We take it easy, some shopping around

the hotel for breakfast stuff like maple flavored goat cheese and a baguette, how much more French Canadian can it get?  We get some lunch and share it on the patio of the hotel where John couldn’t smoke last night.  And I realize how Oscar doesn’t get dirty at home because we go from one clean place to another and this is about to end because now he scoots off his blanket and onto the wood planks that are covered in mildew, the flowers blow stuff on him

  and the crap just blowing through this city is getting in my eyes.  I forget how much hotter it is in the asphalt jungle of a major city.  We’re in Canada for God’s sake and it’s sweltering in between these buildings.  I bet these people have pulled out there one outfit that they have for the hottest day of the year and worn it today.  I find that taking pictures while wandering around with a baby doesn’t work very well, and we’re both worn out from the trip, so a 

nap in the room is in order.  John gets back from his conference and we go out walking to find dinner.  I saw someplace with poutine on our way to the hotel and can’t remember how far back up Yonge Street it is, so we start trekking with a stroller.  Well, it turned out to be way too far away and after so many blocks, I said to forget it and we hit a burger joint that said it’s endorsed

  by the Maple Leafs, Marlies, etc, but if so, not this location because it was the most burned burger ever, with the only saving grace being I was able to get goat cheese on it.  When will America embrace goat cheese?  I love that stuff.  But they did have poutine, so John was able to get some fries with gravy and cheese curds on it.  But it looked about as special as the burger, so I don’t think we got an authentic experience.  Some book stores and window shopping later, it was time to head in and get to bed 

because we’re all exhausted.  Except for Oscar, who believes that he wants to stay up and up and up.   We finally cut out all the lights and I tell John to let him cry at this point.  Here is my worst nightmare with the idea of being in a plane with a baby.  You know that he is clean, fed, and tired, but maybe teeth or gas or who the hell knows what is wrong with him and he just won’t go to sleep.  So, we put him in his bed with his crinkly book and we both go to sleep to the sound of him playing with it.  Let him go to sleep whenever he wants as long as he’s quiet.  At least he slept until 9am the next morning out of courtesy for his parents, I’m sure….