How do you spell redemption? E-I-E-I-O
Alright. It’s settled. I have decided not to sell my toddler on Craigslist.
First report card: Evan is a sweet, gentle boy. He is so inquisitive, loves anything with wheels, and loves to sing.
<What?> Loves to sing.
What do you mean, he ‘loves to sing’? He doesn’t sing. I’m his mother. I should know. He’s not even talking yet, aside from NO! and WOW! and the requisite mama/dada.
Good god. Does he sing?
The other day we walked hand-in-hand to the wharf in search of dried-up mussel beds to crunch underfoot and to scramble in dinghys beached for winter. As we strolled I tried them all: row row row your boat, twinkle twinkle little star, itsy bitsy spider. All the standards, to no avail. He listened politely, gripping my fingers through his mittens, staring at his boots.
Then, I struck gold: Old MacDonald. His head snapped to attention, and he hummed along until the chorus, when he.. well, see for yourself.
Knocked off my feet that he has talents unbeknownst to me. He soaks up the world under the stewardship of other people, and brings it back to show me with his own twist. Magic.


Reader Comments (8)
thanks for the kudos!