Singing the Woes of a Toddler

toddler

I was always a rather loud child.  My mother would say the same thing, in a breathy, angered voice. I can’t tell you how many times I completely embarrassed my family.  Let’s just say I had a way with forcing them to explain themselves to strangers.

One of these instances happened in a very public place, let’s call that place JCPenney’s, because my mom knows how to work a deal on sweaters. I was about four years old at the time. I was a very small child, with very large blond hair that seemed to weigh more than my body itself. But I managed to find and claim the smallest of hiding places. No one enjoyed playing hide and seek with me if I was hiding because I was a ninja.

I was practicing my ninja skills in JCPenney’s with my obviously worn out mother. She just wanted a Saturday to shop for herself, and who could blame her? She had two kids and a full time job; it’s enough to make anyone want to fall asleep on the floor in the fetal position.  But anyways, at this JCPenney’s, there were racks on racks on racks.  And since I was about two feet tall this was the equivalent to a forest as deep as Heart of Darkness. I giggled with what I assume was a mixture of glee and malice, because I was a devious little troll, and buried myself in the racks.

My dear mother knew I was nearby, and decided not to indulge my silliness, because honestly if she had addressed my need to go foraging I would have just burrowed further. My mumsy was smart this way.  She made a fatal error however; since she had not indulged me in my ninja game, I became bored, and she did not stop to consider what I would do as a bored four-year-old.

I sang.

I sang with all of my heart.  I poured out my boredom burdens with such force that other patrons stopped to listen and see if it was coming from over the speakers. My mother claims this at any rate.  Mumsy was about to swoop in and grab me to save her from further embarrassment when one of the curious shoppers came up to her.  She assumed the worse, of course. She imagined something along the lines of “Why can’t you control that obnoxious voice box you call your child?” However, the woman had only come over to say that she admired my voice asked whom it was. My shocked mother assumed responsibility for me, and the woman said she thought I was a full-grown woman, not some deranged four-year-old singing to clothing.

Can you imagine a full-grown woman bursting into song in JCPenney’s with no warning or reason whatsoever? But this woman wasn’t annoyed- she thought I was talented. So instead of giving me a verbal whipping, my mother actually bragged about me. She still tells this story every chance she gets, because undoubtedly that was my proudest moment in life. I’m glad that I live up to the family legacy mom. Bless you.

(photo courtesy of Phaitoon/Freedigitalphotos.net)

About Katie Bell

Katie Bell is a written word and photography enthusiast who enjoys reading novels, exploring nature, and eating noms in her free time.

About Katie Bell

Katie Bell is a written word and photography enthusiast who enjoys reading novels, exploring nature, and eating noms in her free time.

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