Mom had me on a rain-soaked and rosy-fingered
dawn in March,
in Beverly Hills,
of all places.
Good,
bad
or melodramatically worse,
she loved being a mom,
and so do I.
My son has my bad habit of
only wanting everything or nothing
and my bad heart.
Yesterday when I told him it was time
to take his heart medication,
I forgot to use our magical language,
I just said "It's time for your heart medicine."
"That's not what it is."
"Oh?"
"It's watermelon juice."
