Had the pleasure of babysitting for a friend’s son for a few hours this morning.
Born in late January, this little guy smiled nearly the whole time I was there. So incredibly cute.
We started our hang-out sesh by walking 2.5 miles before it got too humid.
We watched the backyard chickens until the mosquitos found me and I worried they’d find him, too.
He had lunch and then we read a book about e.e. cummings. I didn’t expect to learn about the early childhood, college days and military service of one of America’s greatest poets when I sat down in the nursery. Isaac was surprised the information was new to me. #ivereadthatoneafewtimesjennie
The funny thing, though, and the reason I started this post? I sang him to sleep. And he slept, peacefully. His smile meter pegged about 11:45 and I knew he was full and dry so I decided to pace and hold him. And, for some reason, started singing instead of shush/soothing.
I say it’s funny because I really can’t sing. I do sing, but I shouldn’t. Years ago, someone in church stopped the music, from the stage and said ‘Jennie takes the noise part of making a joyful noise unto the Lord’ literally. Sorry about that, everyone.” People laughed. I don’t remember singing again in church for years. Jerk move, that was. It’s somewhere on the “it’s any wonder we’re divorced” list. Too bad, too. I memorize lyrics and keep them forever. I forget which vegetables I need sometimes but I can still break into most of N.K.O.T.B’s songs, break it down with Dana Dane and recite many of David Allan Coe’s hits without missing a beat.
Once, years ago when I still carried a government issued blackberry, I butt-dialed an operations office aboard the largest live fire training base in the world and inadvertently subjected them to me, jamming at the top of my lungs to whatever song was holding my attention. Come to think of it, that happened more than once. And there was a car-concert caught camera after I hit a bump in the training area and activated the vehicle safety office’s on board cameras. #somepeopleneverlearn
So I sang. After three minutes of, “One day we’re gonna laugh at how bad I sing, but right now it’s worrrr-errrrr- errrrr-kinnnng,” low and off key, dude was out. How’s that for an ego boost? Isaac likes my singing.