Tiny-Small: The Musical

To us that is a mere toothbrush. To Tiny-Small it is a microphone!

 

We are always singing around here. We sing off-key and badly and now it has rubbed off on our offspring. It’s OK though, because it’s hard to be grumpy and in a bad mood when you are constantly singing. Tiny-Small is assimilating into this family with more grace and enthusiasm than anyone could have imagined or expected. She is a smart, beautiful, happy child. She deserves better, but she’s stuck with us and making the best of it! I give her loads of credit for that.

Tiny-Small is the only person on the planet that claps after hearing me sing. She makes me feel like a Super-Star! I am sure she will start wearing earplugs by the time she is 13.

 

I have a mind for theatrical performances, so while I can never remember the words to pop songs on the radio, I can always belt out a few songs from Annie or The Sound of Music. Don’t even get me started on Fiddler On The Roof. I don’t even know the words to half of the songs, but that doesn’t stop me from writing my own lyrics. Of course, if you have read my blog before you also know I have a year round obsession with Christmas music too. Tiny-Small will be well versed in how to be totally uncool by the time she is 4 years old at this rate. I can only imagine her future horror when her mom picks her up from Girl Scouts singing the theme song from Phantom of the Opera or that song from Wicked made super popular by the hit TV show Glee. Not only will I be singing it, but singing it badly. The best I can do is not wear slippers or have my hair in curlers when I pull up to the curb, swing the passenger door open wide and yell for her to climb on in. At least I won’t be smoking and won’t have a smile full of missing teeth (hopefully). I feel sorry for her already. Mostly because there is a good chance that sometime in the future I will pick her up while wearing my slippers and with curlers in my hair. Or, even worse, still in my pajamas (and flips flops) covered in dirt because I was gardening and chasing chickens all over the back yard. I can’t help it. I’ve never been very cool either and it’s unlikely I’m going to start now at such an advanced age. Old people don’t change, at least not into what teenagers want them to.

Tiny-Small The Musical

When Tiny-Small grows up and we drag out the family photo albums she will likely have to explain her family of misfits and the clothes we are wearing. The home videos will be filled with bad singing, horrible piano playing and endless barking. Her friends will wonder how she turned out so “normal” despite her up bringing. I am sure by then she will have perfected her explanations and through extensive therapy discovered the source of her fantastic resilience. Either that, or she’ll be just like us: Singing off-key while fake ballet dancing, chasing chickens around the backyard while daydreaming about the medical genius and just out of reach procedure of debarking, and laughing at her own awkward, quirkiness and sad but true love of producing endless pictorial documentation of it all. Yes, someday she will have it all and be just like her parents! Or, more importantly, just like me.

 

The best part is we have an endless supply of blackmail footage. It’s going to be fun when she grows up. She can’t really deny her part in any of these shenanigans because we have video of it all! Sing away, Tiny-Small, sing away! Your feature is bright and I see auditions for American Idol in your future.

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