Not a thing has changed since mom held my hand and led me through this line. It seems a parental rite of passage to return the favor. Or, is it, inflict that looping song into their long-term memories. Remember it? Sing with me: it’s a small world after all… It’s a small world after all… It’s a small, small, world. (repeat)
Last time here, I was Stella’s age
November 25, 2008 by