Some numbers from the week

St Paddy's Day.
1: number of Irish bars on my block.
3: number of emergency vehicles parked outside of it on St. Paddy's day at 10pm.
6: number of paramedics trying to talk the very drunk man in the neck brace into the gurney.
15: number of minutes it took them to do so.
4: number of big burly paramedics who actually participated in strapping him down.
at least 1: number of people watching the proceedings through binoculars from above.


Pigeons.
1: Number of headless pigeons that abruptly fell out of the sky and landed in front of me on Park Avenue this Friday.
2 and counting: number of days it's taking me to get over being completely weirded out by the incident.


Kids.
2: Number of times I've chatted with my neice (almost age 3) this week on the webcam.
2: months before I anticipate that this kid will be able to pick up the phone, dial my number, tell me to get online, and then initiate a webcam chat on her own.
968,277: Number of times that my uterus has skipped a beat when I've thought of the little little one, who is 3 1/2 months old. (... wait, make that 968,278.)
32: Age that you must, must, must tell me to wait until before I even think about having children.