This column is dedicated to the fine young woman who shouted medical advice at my son and I across three lanes of traffic as she was trying to navigate a minivan full of kids through a very crowded Union Avenue after the Saratoga Race Course’s Open House last Sunday.
And I think you know who you are.
On the Fourth of July, fresh off of a vacation to the epicenter of family values, Atlantic City, my wife and I took our two sons over to my in-laws’ for a barbecue. Twenty minutes later, we were on our way to the emergency room. Our daredevil of a 5-year-old broke his leg by running and jumping into some elaborate kiddie pool complete with oasis, slide, palm tree and about half a cup of water in it.
He didn’t want to go...
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