When we moved from the city, we initially embraced life in Jersey. We had a parking place, a washer, a dryer, good schools, no drug dealers in puffy jackets loitering in the lobby. It was the good life, baby. We had made it.

Now, it’s all settling in and we’re realizing that we’ve moved to Jersey. Not one of the Jersey towns right outside of the city that are really just extensions of the Upper Westside. No way. We’re in the thick of it. Big hair, pink jogging suits, and slurpees. Yeah, you heard me. Slurpees. It’s a way of life out here. The local 7Eleven is hopping. People leave their car running and jump in the store for their purple slurpees and a pack of smokes.

You know the whole state closed down for business a few weeks ago and did anyone care? No. Corzine could have emptied out the government for the rest of the year and no one would have cared. Shut down the Slurpees and there would have been riots.

We kept the kids away from the Slurpees until a few weeks ago. But then Jonah tasted one, while on a playdate with his buddy Alex. There’s no going back. Sigh. Let’s hope he never eats one of the those continually rotating hotdogs.