Hello A Mother Far From Home readers! My name is KariAnne and I blog over at Thistlewood Farm.
Thistlewood Farm is a turn-of-the-century farmhouse at the corner of where a cornfield meets a long winding country road.
It is our forever and ever house.
A house filled with laughter and joy.
A house where games of Monopoly never end, where you can read books in the leafy branches of a treehouse, follow a winding path to create projects galore in a tiny art house and tell jokes that always end with “orange you glad you didn’t say banana.” A house with turtles and fish and dogs and cats. A house where a warm fire, a good book and a cup of hot tea are always waiting. A house for friends and family to know they are special.
There are a lot of chapters in our story.
This is one of my very favorites.
We have a family playlist for the car.
A list of songs that are true classics.
Songs that have been played for years….the lyrics memorized long ago.
Songs that only achieve their full potential when they are sung at the top of your lungs with your head moving side to side…..complete with hand motions and an occasional “Ooo Ooo.”
Call it family bonding.
Here’s our family-bonding playlist:
The Eye of the Tiger/Survivor
The Lion Sleeps Tonight/ Solomon Linda and the Evening Birds
Long Black Train/Josh Turner
All Star/ Smash Mouth
We Are the Champions/Queen
Classics…..each and every one.
As usual, the other day the playlist was blaring in the car…..
…..with each of us singing like an American Idol audition was just around the corner.
And somewhere between “Hey now….you’re an all star….get your game on…..go play” and “It’s the eye of the tiger…..it’s the thrill of the fight”….
My twelve-year old paused the music.
And looked at me with all of the earnestness a twelve-year-old boy can muster.
“Uhh…..mom. I don’t really think I can sing these songs much longer.”
(followed by an extraordinary amount of throat clearing)
“It’s getting really hard to sing….you know…. (and with great effort and some more throat clearing…..he finished with….)
…..you know…..with my voice getting so low and all.”
To my credit…..I said nothing.
I sat there with my hands on the steering wheel.
Staring straight ahead.
Part of me wanting to laugh.
Part of me wanting to cry.
Part of me afraid to turn a look at him in case he had grown a moustache and seven inches in the last five minutes.
He’s growing up this skateboarding, cup-cake-eating, wildlife-sanctuary-creator of mine.
So I gave the statement all of the solemn consideration it deserved…..
…..and reached over to slowly turn back on the playlist.
And as Smash Mouth started the chorus again, I turned to him and smiled,
“I think you’ll be fine……
……as long as you sing bass.” 🙂
PS Thirty minutes later he was making a fort in the creek…..maybe his bass-singing days will just have to wait.