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We started our day with a trip to Coram’s Fields, which according to at least one London guidebook is a “Top 10” sight for children. The park/playground/petting zoo is owned and operated by a charitable foundation. As such, their signs clearly state that it’s “not a public park” therefore unaccompanied adults (presumably perverts, kidnappers, and those with a child fetish) aren’t allowed… however, as Michael Jackson could have made it in with Snuggie (or whatever he called his kid) and since the park isn’t very well guarded (it has signs, after all), this is probably a silver lining to his untimely departure. The park itself was modest but enjoyable – some playground equipment and a few animals (chickens, a rabbit, a couple of other birds, three goats, and a black sheep (every petting zoo has one).

Emerson playing in Coram's Fields

Emerson playing in Coram's Fields

After the zoo, we walked over to Leicester Square (to visit the TKTS booth) and then on to the National Galley. We’d taken Emerson to the Ringling Museum at home when she was very small, but this was her first proper visit to view art. I wheeled her around in her stroller, and we looked at a handful of works that I thought might have some toddler appeal… you know, cheerful stuff like The Execution of Lady Jane Grey. Other hits included works by Joseph Wright of Derby (Caravaggio-worthy use of light), Claude Monet (where we compared his impressionistic work of the Thames and Houses of Parliament to our pictures from yesterday), and Vincent Van Gogh (“I see crabs and sunflowers, Daddy.”). After the museum, we ate lunch outside in the sunshine near Leicester Square.

Following lunch, we walked up Regent Street to visit Hamley’s, London’s five story wonderland of toys. I’d actually never been to Hamley’s in London before (though we visited one of its outlets for the first time in Dubai this past March). It really is a fairly amazing store, if a bit crowded and crazed. As kids, we both would have loved it, though I never visited London in childhood and (somewhat inexplicably) Libby never went on her many trips. In any case, I feared Emerson would simply meltdown from complete toddler overload, but she managed to keep (reasonably) calm and carry (very little) on. She was allowed to buy two new books and a couple of little animals to add to her collection.

Piccadilly Circus en route to Regent St.

Piccadilly Circus en route to Regent St.

For dinner, we picked up Mexican food at the Whole Foods (which now has a fairly awesome burrito station). Emerson also partook of a container of fresh guacamole (which she prefers to eat with a spoon rather than chips) and the better part of two pints of cherry tomatoes. After dinner, Emerson stayed with Gram (my mother) while Libby and I headed out to the theatre to see Michael Ball in Sweeny Todd, which provided our second dose of imagined perverts for the day (as much of the story hinges on the actions of a lecherous judge, who at least in this production seemed excessively interested in rubbing his crotch—lest the audience be uncertain of his motives). To be clear: Michael Ball—though Libby thought he played his part too broadly—did not rub his crotch… much to Libby’s disappointment. :-)

I’ll leave you with that happy thought…

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