Pa always jokes about how he sees more stars in New Orleans than he ever saw in Los Angeles. One time, Ma, Pa and I were walking along Magazine Street, enjoying the Spring evening air, buzzing with all kinds of smells--so many, in fact, that my nose was sore from all the sniffing that night. Fried seafood, a half eaten cupcake on the sidewalk, the sweet musk of incense wafting from somewhere in the Channel, a freshly laid cat poop, newly blooming flowers, some sweet perfume. God there were a lot of smells that night! My little nose was on overdrive. Pa compares it to a hovering moist blackberry. Pa loves me. Anyway, it was the perfume that was coming from the couple that approached us on our walk that I really noticed. It was so strong, something of a bygone era. Maybe White Diamonds by Liz Taylor. Just a guess (Ma's perfume is much nicer smelling). As the couple approached, I noticed the woman's eyes settle on mine. We all stopped as she said something to Ma and Pa, sipping intermittently from a large glass of white wine. She seemed to be so giddy and, as Pa lifted me upward in his strong arms, the woman leaned in with squinted eyes and a wide smile, saying over and over how cute I was. I figured she was being friendly to Ma and Pa, so I let her muss the wisps on my head, the hair that makes Pa call me Pom Pom head. After a few moments of stroking my silky mane, the woman smiled, said again how adorable I am, and said good evening. As we walked onward towards Washington St, Ma and Pa laughed about how Stifler's mom from the American Pie movies said I was so adorable.
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