A couple of interesting adventures in San Francisco yesterday before we picked Chloe up at the airport. First, the silver guy….whom we saw at the start of our visit to Fisherman’s Wharf. This man stood still, statue-like, with his money cup held out. As soon as you put money into the cup, he’d slowly move, tin man style, into a new position. We all thought this guy was the coolest, especially Max and Charlie. Max was snapping photo after photo with his top-of-the-line camera and Charlie kept chiding us to put a $5 bill into the cup, confident that a larger bill might elicit a dance move from the “statue,” not just a shift in position.  Gigi, seated in her stroller, was silent.

We found out later, as we sat down for a quick bite to eat, and G kept giving every stranger who entered the fast food joint the “hairy eyeball,”  that she was terrified of “that silver guy..”

“Is that silver guy going to follow us, Mom?”

“Is that the silver guy?!!!”

“Are we going back to the car near the silver guy?”

“Can we just go to the airport now to get Chloe? The silver guy doesn’t go to airports, right?”

Poor kid…I think I’m going to have more to deal with than just messy sheets in the middle of the night these next couple of weeks.  Last night, before books, I found G peering into her bedroom closet to assure herself that there was no silver guy lurking in wait.