Yesterday after we got home from daycare (90 minute commute...not sure what I did this time to screw up my karma), us girls were all hanging out in the kitchen. Kate was up on the table tormenting Max. I'd put in her Wee Sign CD. Her Aunt Ellen picked it up for her for Christmas last year, stating that it had been one of my niece's favorites. In the past couple months Kate's decided it's the best thing ever. She refers to it as "my songs" and won't settle in for nap time on the weekends unless I put it on for her.
The other day when I was meeting with a couple co-workers on a project, I complained that I keep waking up with annoying children's songs stuck in my head. One of them, father of a 7-year-old and an 18-month-old, immediately launched into "Old MacDonald" and the other, whose children are older, still didn't miss a beat coming in with B-I-N-G-O. Having children is a little like always being at camp.
So anyway, Kate's up there next to the CD player, "petting" Max somewhat forcefully around the neck. Just as they were getting to "Hey Lolly, lolly, lolly..." and I was once again trying to think of a good word that rhymes with Sarah (I always end up with a verse about Yogi Berra), Kate began to play with the buttons. I thought she was just doing the "ooooh buttons" thing but in fact, she turned off the CD. Then she messed with all the settings until she got the tuner back on and the soothing sounds of All Things Considered greeted us. I thought she'd continue playing with the buttons but she didn't. She gave a satisfied shrug and turned back to the cat. She wanted to listen to NPR. My heart swelled...I get a little misty just recounting it. That's my girl.
1 comment:
Great, NPR. Now she's going start with the affected stammering of Ira Glass, saying "sort of" where her normal friends would say "like," and pronouncing Nik-ah-dag-gua.
Tiara.
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