“Dance like no one is watching…” so the cliché goes. Well, I happened to take it literally. The night before Mother’s Day, I found myself dancing with no less than my very seven-year-old son under the moonlight, oblivious to the crowd of diners who were watching Charlie Green at the Piazza in Mc Kinley Hill.

Dancing has not my turf and in fact, it’s my frustration. But who could decline an invitation from the closest man in my heart who said “Mama, let’s dance,” the night was so young and Charlie was serenading you “On the Sunny Side of the Street”? It seems that I’m having diet pills that work that night.