As the wee CEO & I were driving home from nursery school the other day - school is going wonderfully, by the way - I heard chirping coming from the back seat.
I turned down the radio so I could make out the sounds. "Iiih, biii spiiiiiii . . ." warbled Master P, beaming as he carefully made those universal hand gestures for that classic / Lady Gaga's next hit, "Itsy Bitsy Spider."
This singing was a first, and I nearly drove the Trophy Wife Wagon off the road in excitement. "He's a musical prodigy!" I thought to myself, not getting carried away in the least. My rough n' tumble beast of a boy's boy, who has shown little of his mama's interest in the arts unless said arts involve fire trucks, likes to sing!
Don't get me wrong - I adore my brave boy in all his wiggly, energetic glory. I have dutifully learned about things like the many forms of construction equipment with SAT study vigor. It's just, ya know, fun when our areas of interest overlap too; with apologies to backhoe loaders and excavators - it's not you, it's me. Ok, and you.
Anywhoo, I immediately had visions of Family von Trapp style singalongs running through my mind, with festive family evenings at home singing around the piano (never mind that we don't have a piano, nor do we ever sing collectively unless it's an attempt to punish, nor are we living in a nineteenth century novel . . .). Today, nursery school - tomorrow, Julliard!
|See that face? Trouble to commence in 3, 2, 1 . . .|
Bursting with pride, I asked Master P what he wanted to sing next. "Bus, bus!" he cried - that's our code for the children's classic "The Wheels on the Bus".
"The wheels on the bus go round and round . . ." I began.
I scanned the street to make sure there weren't any car accidents, then I looked in the rear view mirror - only to see my duet partner giving good Mischief Face.
" . . . round and round, round and round . . ." I attempted to continue.
"CRASH, CRASH!" he hooted, smashing his toy bus into a toy car.
Turns out we were singing not so the magical schoolbus could turn its wheels round and round, but so it could meet a fiery end.
Thus ended our moving concert. However, I remain hopeful that my all-boy boy might let me live my Fraulein Maria dreams every now and again, even if just for a small time in the privacy of our car.
Here's to a CRASH! free weekend to you.