When the initial beats of Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" trickle across the living room, the baby and I are sitting on opposite ends.
I am sorting through clothes.
He is playing with his garbage truck.
As the music builds to "You Don't Have to Worry", we both jump up.
Before the sentence, "Let's dance!" is out of my mouth, he is in my arms.
The music sweeps us from room to room, spinning and dipping us with the rhythm.
Pure joy, I tell yeah.
