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First trying my best to be "the baby whisperer" and get 3 month old Forrest to sleep, son of friends from Australia visiting us, Brigid and Evan. As soon as the crying starts it is soooo fierce that you would wear yourself out just to keep it from happening, doing squats up and down, until the rhythm starts to take over. Rhythm of David Burbage or somesuch, a record gotten for a buck from Stray, local thrift store on Skillman, but perfect in the moment, a few glasses of rum coconut monster energy drink later. We danced and it was suddenly the perfect thing needed for me, even more than him. And then he's down and I go to do dishes to Talib Kweli and it is the dance of the dishes, pop and lock stylo, tone loc wild thing on the spunge slide.