My Oldest, age 13: “Let’s play a game where we go around and each add one line to a story. I’ll start. There once was a beautiful princess with long flowing brown hair.”
Friend, 13: “One day, the princess met a beautiful prince, and they fell madly in love.”
Litlle Miss Thing, age 4: “And then someone farted inside a marshmallow.”
(pause)
Me: “Game over. She wins.”
“OK kids, stop singing Frozen songs and substituting ‘dingus’ for all the verbs.”
So that happened.
Oh, good.
Now they’re singing our new family anthem: “If you’re happy and you know it, poop your pants.”
Dear little old lady singing loudly and badly in the booth next to me in the quiet restaurant;
Thank You.
I needed a reminder that song is an eruption of joy, not a staged performance reserved for practiced professionals.
I can’t recall ever getting this much enjoyment from Lionel Ritchie’s Three Times A Lady in my entire life.
Thank you, tone deaf Grandma.
Keep singing, old girl. Keep singing.
Very Vocal Viking 