Toot toot ahhhhhh beep beep!
The daily prompt today was:
Take a line from a song that you love or connect with. Turn that line into the title of your post.
Can you tell Daddy loves Donna Summer? It was this song that played to me when I was a child in the crib. My older sister was a teenager in the late 1970’s when I was born and she was into Donna Summer. So immersed was I in the queen of disco as a young boy that when she died (a day after my father-in-law died this past May) a part of me died too. On our way home from New Jersey on our cross-country road trip I made a special point to stop at her grave. It took a little online digging (no pun intended) to find her grave but I did it! I actually used a site called findagrave.com. Go figure. And now I play her tunes to my own kids and they love it and I love seeing them dance because that’s what you do to dance music.
But how does this title relate to my life? You knew I was going to tell you. If you didn’t, then you don’t really know me. In recent posts I have mentioned how my beautiful little girl has taken to slapping me randomly. I suppose it’s not really random. She does it for a reason. Clearly I’m getting in her way of world domination and she knows she can wield her cuteness as a weapon to draw me in close enough to make contact. That’s it, really. She’s a bad girl, a naughty, bad girl. Oh hell, this prompt is ridiculous. The other line I could have gone with was “There was blood and a single gunshot but just who shot who?” As I don’t really know too many mournful, octogenarian ex-showgirls from Havana I couldn’t really go with that one too well. On to other things…
This morning I woke up hopeful that my laryngitis had subsided. Despite all the talking I do I have never actually had laryngitis. So when my voice pitched and cracked at the end of my last class yesterday I was taken aback. “Whoa, kids, what the heck was that?” We all laughed. “That hasn’t happened to me in about twenty years.” My audience of sixteen year-old’s, appreciative of the post-pubescent nature of my quip laughed even harder. Truth is, I don’t really remember my voice cracking ever. I simply eased into my adult voice like a ninja. They never saw it coming and weren’t even sure it had happened. This is probably why I can sing harmony to Donna Summer, which greatly amuses my kids.
Something else amazing happened at work today. I found out that, due to some errors, I actually had way more personal days this year than previously thought. In fact, I thought I was in the hole. Thanks to the newfound balance I can afford to rest my vocal cords tomorrow. But I’ll probably spend the day singing Bad Girls for my daughter. I don’t think this post is possessed of an ending. Just remember, the next time a two year-old slaps you across the face… Toot toot ahhhhhh beep beep! And everything will be OK.