Now for a little confession: I didn't know the date of Max's piano recital until last week. How can this be? Well, I'm sure his teacher told me and I probably filed it away in my mind in that cabinet towards the back of the basement which gets cluttered with cobwebs and seems rather unapproachable. Suffice it to say my shame preceded me when I stepped into the library hall for his performance. I hope one can still be a "good mother" if one has the tendency to forget tiny details, like dates, times, places, rehearsals, paperwork, and other disagreeables.
Who is that mysterious beauty in the bonnet?
Why, it's Milla Bonet, connisseur of live piano music and antique hats.
The proud performers of Mrs. Bedingfield's piano class.
Portraits be darned. Max's aside to Mrs. Bedingfield dealt with the remote and frightening possibility of recieving another Bach statue as opposed to that of a composer not yet in his statue collection.
