is a single mama in the city, super-savvy editor, writer, video host and shameless shoe whore.
And now for something totally different
Monday, January 11, 2010 Yes, I claim this kid, swathed in hotel pool towels, dripping wet and dancing.
He insisted I open the door to the suite we shared with my parents, announcing, "Here comes the old king!" while he walked hunched over with a shaky cane made out of air and imagination.
I thought he looked more like he needed a pretend pile of pineapples and bananas tied to his headpiece. He obliged that vision by dancing down the hallway, tiny tushy waving about under those overused, tiny towels.
He wanted to keep the towel wrapped around his head when he went to bed. In retrospect, I suppose I should have let him. He had the most outrageous bedhead the next morning. But that crazy hair belongs to this small child who can make anything into a costume and a dance party, and he is my boy. And I do love shaking it, spinning him and singing right along with him.
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