I Miss My Piano

Last week, my family and I moved from our old apartment on West 107th Street in Manhattan to a great new place six blocks north, on West 113th Street. I should say that almost all of my family moved. I made the move, and so did my wife Karen (a.k.a. the Glorious Ms. O), along with our son Nate (a.k.a. Mr. Mustache). Unfortunately, one member of our family, our beloved piano, which has no name, failed to make the trip. It was too big for the elevator. It is too fat. If anyone reading this knows any diet tips for a piano, please let me know.