Max was in rare form this particular afternoon. She had been in more trouble than usual and had managed to spend half the afternoon in time out. Needless to say, I was a bit frazzled. So, I turned to my favorite relaxation technique – my acoustic guitar, Pearl. I sat down on the couch to play (badly) while Max was sitting in the middle of her bedroom floor in time out pouting.
Or, so I thought.
I sat picking quietly as my husband putted around the information super highway. Peace at last.
Then, in came Max. She had her sister’s diva sunglasses a-la Paris Hilton on. Upside down. She strutted into the room, pausing by her dad. She tossed her little head and said, “Hello, Daddy. Nice to see you again.”
Daddy choked back a laugh and said, “You, too.”
She strolled, in true unhurried diva fashion, over to the sofa where I sat with the guitar in my lap. “Nice to see you, Mommy.”
“You too. What are you doing out of your room?”
“I have to play the mootar.” She moved my hand away so she could strum.
Max then proceeded to count herself into the song. “A-one! A-two! A-three four five! I’M BRINGIN’ HOOOOOOME A BAAAAABY BUM-BLE BEEEEEEEEEEEEE” (if I could use a bigger font here, I would use the biggest one I had.)
The words were accented by loud dischord thwangs on the strings on the down beat as she head-banged. “WON’T MYYYYY MOMMIEEEEEEE BE SO PROUD-A MEEEEEEE?” THWANG!
Rock out, sister. Watch out Joan Jett. This girl loves rock-n-roll.