Yesterday I buckled three children into my car, ran around to the driver’s side and opened the door to their chanting, “ Savage, Savage, Savage!” Two of these children were mine. And, until recently, they only called me mama. But they hear other people call me Savage and they are starting to experiment with it. The other night Eliza was pretending it was my birthday, “Happy birthday dear Savage…” she sang with a giggle, trying it out for the first time.
“Why do people call you Savage?” she said. [Read more]