What day will you think of as you lay dying? Many many happy moments, much to be grateful for, but a whole happy day? I only have a few. And meeting Baby Boy was definitely one of them.
He was delicious.
Then he got bigger.
I made sure he held my hand when we crossed the street and I called him my Baby Boy. In public.
And then he got even bigger. I could no longer insist on him holding my hand as we crossed the street and I was not allowed to call him anything except his name.
Now he's 18.
I call him B.B. and even if I can't hold his hand, I still make sure my hand is on his shoulder as we jay-walk our way back from a movie.
Anton van Dalen’s “PEACE” of the East Village - Near the corner of Avenue A and East 11th Street is a townhouse with P E A C E written in abstracted geometric black lettering across the entablature of th...
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