dancing with my baby to italian love songs

I have grown to love my dancing time with Daniel and Paolo Conte. It's the only music that I can guarantee will settle Daniel to sleep when nothing else will work. It never fails, and I don't quite get it, but I don't question it.

I bought the Best of Paolo Conte CD this fall after hearing one of his songs in a French movie we rented from Netflix. His voice is sort of a sexy, husky, Italian Tom Waits-Rat Pack hybrid, and when I close my eyes and sway along to the music, I imagine myself in a dark, smoky jazz club, my head full of wine, leaning against a man's strong shoulder. Open my eyes, and I'm barefoot on the living room floor in my sweatpants, and the only male shoulder in proximity is Daniel's tiny one, nestled against my chest. It usually takes just four or five songs before his eyelids droop and he falls asleep. I usually listen to the first three, then skip the fourth (too upbeat for sleeping and swooning) and go straight to number five, my favorite, "Sparring Partner." It's the one from the movie.

One day, Steve got home from work and walked in the door just as Daniel was falling asleep. We put the baby into his rocker, and my man took me in his arms and held me close as we danced across the floor. When I closed my eyes, it was almost like being in that jazz club.