Via Daily Prompt
My daughter loves to sing…And by that I mean she loves warbling like a cuckoo, since she’s only two and hasn’t yet quite figured out how to make sentences. She has been like this ever since she could emit sounds from that pink, roundish orifice on her face. The sound of music fascinates her and she can learn tunes in a heartbeat. This is not a proud mommy speaking, I’ve been told by several that she picks up tunes exceptionally fast. She loves the sound of her own voice and come rain or shine She.Will.Sing… when she’s on the pot, when she’s eating, when she’s swinging, even when she’s crying (no, I’m not kidding).
One of her favourite songs is the traditional nursery rhyme – Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Ever since she first heard it, she has been improvising on the rhyme. So when she started it was only a song she would hum, because she couldn’t really pronounce the words, but as she grew up and her verbal capacities improved, it went from mere hummings to a full-fledged, foghorn-ish cacophony of half-formed words and illegible sounds. The poor rhyme is now stuck at ‘twinkul, twinkul leeetal staar, how ve wanda wot u aaar; up aba the wol so hi, likeee dimon in the skiiii…’ and then she will repeat it and repeat it and repeat it, till kingdom come. Kids!
But the most endearing part of the exercise is not just the singing (I’ve become so used to it now and sometimes it gets downright distracting), but the movements of her tiny little body. The twinkling hands that synchronise themselves in tandem with the words of the ‘twinkle, twinkle’ in the rhyme. The wide, excited eyes… The little, shimmying bottom and her continuous appeals to me to play the song to her on the guitar, while she goes on with her gig (yes, she’s a diva. Wants her own gig and audience all the time). Its exhausting, parenthood is… but these little moments, the little childish achievements, the childlike wonder, the half-formed ideas and her absolute conviction thereof, are what make parenthood so special for me. The litany of sounds and movements, becomes not repetitive, not tedious, not even close to that; but delightful on the contrary, a thing of wonder, joy every time you behold it… just like the phrase – a thing of beauty is a joy forever.
Childhood is a joy, forever…