
Miley Cyrus sports a new ‘do as she signs autographs while leaving dinner with her mom.
One of my mother’s longtime friends is an immigrant from Poland. She has her grandchildren in town visiting this month, and my mom and I went to say hello to them today. They’re 3 and 6, both from Warsaw, and they don’t speak a word of English. (This did not prevent me from having a drawn-out pirate battle with the 3-year-old, which he won — hilariously — when his mother instructed him in Polish to quit fighting and give me a hug. He obliged, throwing his arms around my neck, then reaching to pull my hair clip from my hair and running away with it. You gotta admit when you’ve been out-smarted.)
Anyway, the 6-year-old girl had a little plastic ball with Hannah Montana’s face on it. And she couldn’t so much as say hello to me in English, but when I picked up the ball and said “Hannah Montana?” she smiled and said “Hannah Montana!” (Then the 3-year-old grabbed the ball away from me and announced, in Polish, “Mine!”).
The point is: Miley Cyrus is universal. Crazy universal. (So is being a 3-year-old boy, I suppose.)