I've never been one of those people who like to sing. And you have to be really, really good for me to want to listen to someone else sing. Even when Emily was a baby, I tried my hand at singing to her, but I thought it might hurt her fragile eardrums, so I quit after "bye" in Rockabye Baby.
Thursday night Emily came down with a fever. Her little eyes glassed over and she just dragged. I sent her off to bed early and laid beside her waiting for her to either fall asleep or waited until Dale came home from the "barber shop." (That's a story for later). I kept thinking about what other moms would do in this situation. Many would want to calm their sick child by singing to them. I rubbed Emily's back, I kissed her hot cheek. And then I sang the only song I could think of:
My baloney has a first name, it's
Only I didn't get that far.
Emily shook her head and said, "No, mama."
"Okay," I replied.
Whew. Perhaps in another five years, I'll try again.