The day after Patriots Day we got in the car, typed “Walden Pond” into my phone, and drove away. Half an hour later, as we were nearing our destination, I thought, “Huh. I expected more fanfare for such a popular destination.”

It turns out there are two Walden Ponds in the Boston area, and we were arriving at the “other” one. We got out, scratched our heads for a minute, and pulled out our trusty internet. Sure enough, the famous Walden Pond was half an hour in the other direction.

Some people walked up and asked us if we were locals. Conversation revealed that they too had thought they were coming to the famous Walden Pond. They were really sad and got back in their car.

Luckily for us, though, our little babies didn’t have their little hearts set on learning about Henry David Thoreau. They just wanted to run around and play with pine cones. So we enjoyed the Walden Pond that you see in the pictures above. It was peaceful and quiet, and only 30 minutes from our parking lot.

Molly had packed us some pita sandwich makings. Tuna fish, sliced cucumbers, and little sliced tomatoes. She also brought carrots, home made peanut butter, and banana. We ate it on a rock close to where you see us next to the water. I had a one pita with tuna fish and vegetables, and the mangled remains of Zoie’s peanut butter and banana pita.

Molly also brought two chocolate chip cookies. When the girls were climbing distracted by a few shiny objects I quickly ate one, spreading peanut butter on it in strategic locations.

I felt bad for this Walden Pond. Maybe this is what it feels like to go to Hartford or Stamford University, or to be from Miami, Ohio. All great places, but the terrible fan boys of the world look at you with eyes of acceptance/admiration/respect, then confusion, then disgust, and then they discard you.