It is a cold, rainy Saturday morning in February, so my boys and I are happily snuggled inside. (My son is wearing footie-pajamas, which are the most wonderful things, because they package him up into one little fuzzy cuddle-bundle.)As he runs around the room and plays, he bounces from toy to toy, riffing a quick song on his guitar here, tooling around on his workbench there, climbing up on his spring horse for a quick ride before getting down to a song from his keyboard.
But, even as he jumps from one activity to the next, he does not lose his grip on Mao.
