January 25, 2026

There aren’t many toboggan hills in New York, but steps from our apartment there is one that draws out the local kids when the snow falls. The joyful screams can be heard early in the morning and throughout the day, or at least until the sleds have worn the snow down to the grass below. I meticulously gathered all the essentials to comfortably ride out the snow storm; except one.
A toboggan.

As my son and I stood at the bottom of the hill, the joy and delight of children and parents alike seemed to mock my lack of preparedness. My toddler, correctly observing that this is a terrible spectator sport, turns to me and asks in his sweet angelic voice, “can I have one?”

“No” I thought, “because even though your dad knew this storm was coming for over a week, he didn’t think to get you a toboggan.”