The same week my son started calling me mama, he started calling my sister-in-law Mimi. Mimi--or Mary, as others know her--is my partner's sister. She lives just two blocks from us, and in a typical week she's over at our place six or seven times. My son gets excited when he hears her coming up the stairs. When he wants to dance, he knows she's going to put De La Soul's hip-hop in the CD player. She lets him eat strawberries before he finishes his meat. She makes his stuffed animals talk like the cast of The Sopranos. Life is better...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In