Sunday, September 9, 2012

will school musical

When I was in 8th grade my English teacher surprised us one morning and
told us that the next day would be Opera Day.
Opera Day was the day that you had to sing everything instead of talking in class.
In our house, every day is Opera Day for my son, Will.
He sings non-stop. Everything is a song for him.
Eating a snack. Playing video games. Jumping on his brother.
All of these activities and more are accompanied by lyrics and
his original melodies.
He often accompanies his songs with dance moves.
Or what he claims are dance moves.
I have had to tell him on more than one occasion, "Spanking your own rear is not dancing."
I have listened to him for 30 minutes straight sing his way through
washing dishes, putting away silverware and emptying the trash.
He sings songs in the shower and when he is building legos.
He sings when he is lying in bed trying to go to sleep. He sings to his hamster, Tingoe.
The music is something that wells up within him and must come out.
I remember him at 17 months, giving a Veggie Tale Concert in his room,
wearing an orange t-shirt and his diaper, singing, with a vibrato, mind you,
"I want to dance....I want to groove!
I need to feel the rush! Of the wind! Under my shoes!"
Sometimes the constant singing makes his brothers wild inside,
This can happen when one's sibling is living out a cabaret.
On more than one occasion, they have told him, "Will, be quiet!"
He may stop for a few moments, only to begin humming a lively tune.
I told Jack the other day, "He can't stop. He doesn't know how."
Jack looked at me and said, "He is Will School Musical, Mom."
It's true. He is giving Troy and Gabriella a run for their money.
In truth, I remember belting out songs into my Goody hairbrush in
the bathroom mirror as a child.
There is something joyful and life giving about raising your voice
and hitting a good strong high note.
Singing is in his blood. In my heart of hearts, I love Will's songs. All of them.
As long as he's singing, I will be listening.
I may have to get out my hairbrush and join him.

1 comment:

owen said...

I am emailing Gretchen immediately so that she can read this to Lukas. This summer, at Ruxton, Lukas kept us laughing for a long time most evenings, with his random songs, sung in a slow jazz style! It must be genetic!

I love your blog, and your books. As before, I wish I had had your wisdom when I was your age, with young children.

Luella Meighen