Pink flamingo lady ain't such a bird after all

I finally weeded through the presents Junior amassed at his party (someone likened it to a wedding reception) and found a CD Charles' mother, Joyce, had given him.

It's called Raffi, Singable Songs for the Very Young. It's beautiful and happy and, to be quite honest, I can't believe it's actually from Joyce because everything she's given us so far has been plastic, loud, and annoying. I mean, this is a woman whose entire backyard is decorated with pink flamingos and blinking lights, year round. She wears holiday themed earrings and sweaters and socks.

Anyway, the song "I Wonder if I'm Growing" is a real tear jerker if you're:

a) hungover and trying to cure that with a glass of wine

b) hormonal

c) reflecting on the fact that your baby boy is now one year and one week old and has learned how to give the wettest, drooliest kisses ever.

I can't believe what a fricken sap I've become. Seriously, I might as well start buying all pink clothing and carrying hand-sewn handkerchiefs and spritzing myself with rose water on rainy street corners while humming Carly Simon songs.

For fuck's sake.