A Lyrical Genius. . .

Let me just say, there is nothing more precious than listening to your three-year old sing. It will melt your heart until you are nothing but a gooey puddle of mom. As it was last night while we sang and danced to the Chicken Little soundtrack and Adam belted out first, One Little Slip by The Barenaked Ladies and then Chicken Little's rendition of We Are The Champions. But suddenly, as Don't Go Breaking My Heart began and I sat starry-eyed at my pint-sized future American Idol things took a somewhat sadistic turn. He stumbled through the first few lines, hitting a word or two while simultaneously stuffing his face with buttered popcorn, but as the chorus approached he cleared his pipes and with all his toddler might crooned, "Don't go breakin' my, don't go breakin' my arms!" I swear I heard a record scratch and the room go quiet. He looked at us with our mouths hanging open and knew he had committed some kind of lyrical faux paux althought he couldn't quite figure out what so he just kept on singing. Damonn looked at me distraughtly and asked, "Why would he say that?" as if he purposely changed the words in some kind of desperate plea against domectic violence. "Because he thinks that what it says", I replied.

I couldn't bring myself to correct him. Partly because I think the change in lyrics are funny, which, I know, makes me the sadistic one, and partly because correcting him would take away another little slice of the innocence that is already flitting away with each episode of Sponge Bob he witnesses. It's the same reason I love it when he says "esterday" and "num-nums" (for M&M's). . . . because his babyness is falling off in huge chunks and a little boy that demands "No, I do it" and knows that toilet starts with the letter "T" is emerging. Too soon, even the little boy will be gone and he'll be wearing deoderant and screeching around our street corner in a well-used automobile and I'll be sitting on the front porch clutching my heart as this song repeats itself over and over in my head.