Why I Live in the Suburbs

There is exactly one reason why I live in the burbs; it's an ice cream parlor called "Honey and Hive."

Were I to exist without small children, I might have a mild appreciation for this store. It has fun flavors, and there is a constant rotation. Butterbeer, Irish cream, maple latte, Mexican "hot" chocolate. But--in terms of flavors--you could have a similar experience in the West Village, at Van Leeuwen.

Here is the distinction. If you visit the West Village Van Leeuwen, you are required to hover, like a vulture, by the 3.5 available seats. You must make loud passive-aggressive comments--"Is this area for chatting...or for eating?"--in the hope that your message will "hit home" with any and all thoughtless seated loiterers. The experience is a bit like being stuffed in a tiny coat closet--but recall that you're also holding a small cup of melting, dripping cream.

By contrast, Honey and Hive is a vast, empty palace with games for children. No one visits, particularly in January, so you can dump your kids in front of the toy chest and zone out with your iPhone. It is such a pleasure to shut down your brain, read a lengthy synopsis of "The Sopranos Season Three," and tally the minutes until you can put your daughter to bed.

I'm not sure that anything like this exists in Manhattan.

If you stop by, be sure to steer your kids toward the "honeybee truck toys." Order yourself a scoop of stracciatella cold brew cream. Tune in, turn on, drop out.

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