Today Was a Perfect Day
What Makes a Perfect Day?
It’s not the absence of anything negative- my husband and I had a little spat this morning that digs deeper into real-life issues. But we always put things aside to enjoy our time together.
Our day was still perfect.
We headed out for an adventure on our bikes. We left at 2 pm and just returned at 8 pm. I had to write about the adventure as it was fresh.
We traveled a 13 kilometer (8-mile) stretch of Toronto from East to West, with our 6-year-old son.
When I’m with him on his bike, I’m one of those stereotypical moms beaming with pride because I don’t see a lot of other kids doing these marathons. Not at his age. He looks proud, too. His little legs peddle so hard.
We traced the length of the Lakeshore (of Lake Ontario). We saw a gigantic cargo ship and stopped to stare at its magnitude. It had carted sugar to the nearby Redpath Sugar factory.
The bike path was overflowing with cyclists, strollers, and pedestrians.
We dodged Toronto tourists competing for the crosswalk. People from all over the world flocked around the ferry dock to make their way to the islands.
It’s the long weekend before Labour Day; the weekend when we say goodbye to summer. After two months of holidays, kids go back to school.
In our case, it’s been 18 months of “holidays.” This was our last summer adventure before ending a long stretch of pandemic homeschooling.
When we got to Queen Street West — the food Mecca of Toronto, it was heaven. We love living in the calmer, more simple East end of the city, but we love food adventures.
Patios were exploding with chatter, alcohol, and bunches of girls in summer shorts. The city felt so different.
We were curious and distracted, trying to stay focused on the road. We’d never visited these parts by bike.
We were tourists in our own city.
We sat at the Gelato and Wine Bar. My son had Cookies n’ Cream vegan ice cream. His smile lasted until the last bite. It’s hard for vegans to find good ice cream flavors in the East End of Toronto. We typically get stuck with strawberry or mango sorbet.
We ended the day in Kensington Market, a well-known area for Toronto tourists who want something other than typical sights. It’s an excellent place for people-watching. The most eclectic, bohemian, and odd group of characters congregate within a few blocks.
There was live music on the streets. Imagine that, live music. This mesmerized my son, who’d never been to anything other than a festival, two years ago before COVID-19 hit.
Today we heard beat poets, impromptu hip hop, and a buttery R&B singer, performing over a looping track of Michael Jackson’s Thriller.
There were poems for a dollar, street food from different continents, vintage clothing, cocktails-to-go, and cannabis shops. My son smelled his first big puff of weed smoke.
The day ended with a bike ride home in the dark. I was nervous. He had to go “number two”. We headed into a fast food place, and my husband quickly rushed out to tell me we had to wait. There were dirty syringes on the floor.
This burger joint is next to the park where our homeless neighbors live. The park is littered with sad, lost people. It was the first time we’d ever been in the area at night.
When we got closer to home, I felt my chest release and my body relax.
As we tucked our son into bed, my husband on one side and I on the other, we said our goodnight prayers:
Thank you for our house, and our safety. For keeping us healthy all this time. For a beautiful city.
For such a perfect day.
