churchill.

dear arlo,
in case i ever forget to tell you, little boy, you are a hit with the old ladies.  they eat you up, kiddo, and this is coming from someone who knows, as i once was renowned for making old men's heads spin (something about my face - or maybe my figure - must have evoked a bygone era).  but you?  good god.  old ladies admiration for you spans races, nationalities, and locales.  whether its the toothless chinese lady that you and your dad see on your morning strolls, or the african-american lady who came up to me at target when you were napping in your sling to tell me how smart babies were these days and how you were so different from babies when she had them, to your g.g. (great grandma) who brags to her friends that you've already - at 2 and a half months - composed your first song, to the lady in the macy's bathroom this afternoon who asked if she could just sit and look at you for a little while (and it was NOT one of the nicer macy's bathrooms).

you charm them.  they tell me that you look like alfred hitchcock, or winston churchill.  you must have that evocative face, as well...

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