Grampy Lash

What are little girls made of?…

The past few times that Rachel has come to visit, we have gone through the same routine upon her arrival.

“Lets go upstairs pop-paw, and listen to some music.”

We have converted Rachel’s mom’s old bedroom to a make-shift playroom; complete with a small bed for overnight stays, a rocking chair, lots of toys and books, a CD player, and an assortment of Baby Einstein and Raffi music. Rachel’s favorite lately has been Baby Einstein’s Wake up and Goodnight.

“I want to hear Wake up and Goodnight!” she says while grabbing the “jewel case” that contains the currently beloved music that has managed to surpass Baby Bach in popularity – at least in the house. (For some reason she prefers Baby Bach when riding in the car.) She is three years old, cannot yet read, but somehow has come up with a method for correctly identifying the jewel cases and their contents.

I load the CD, Rachel presses the “play” button, then she turns to me with hands in the air and says, “Pick me up pop-paw.” I pick her up as she commands “Let’s dance pop-paw!” and the music begins to play. It is always a magical time.

sugar and spice…

The music starts with a “Tune-up and fanfare” that is Baby Einstein’s brief interpretation of Franz Schubert’s Symphony No. 8. We waltz, spin, then glide down the hallway to Claudia’s sewing room. She calls out, “We’re dancing Grammy!”, as we dance our way back to the playroom. Our hearts belong to her.

and all things nice…

Just as the first track begins to segue into the next, she suddenly lifts her head from its resting place on my shoulder and says, “I want to see the bird poop on the window!”

“Bird poop on the window?”

“Yes, on that window over there. It has bird poop on it. I want to see it.”

It is always a magical time.

That’s what little girls are made of.