I wish I was…
and not a square. Na na na na na na na…
JoyBoy is working late tonight. I’ve finished my dinner and I sit at the computer listening to this hearty refrain. There are glasses clinking and an enthusiastic Lucy even stands up in the old church pew that serves as her chair, waving her brown arms. Four sets of feet thump merrily as they sing together, reminding me of hobbits in travelworn capes, finally able to relax in a tavern. Though they’re really not, somehow little English voices rise up to meet my secretly delighted ears. Every now and then I see my people-savvy Jude waving at them all to quiet down, but what he doesn’t realize is that I derive great joy from watching and listening to them. It’s especially gratifying when they don’t realize I’m doing so.
Do do do do do.
Do do do do do.
One voice rises up in an enthusiastic British rap and others join in to replicate ridiculous sounding instruments and even beat various kitchen vessels in hearty, congratulatory support. Then Jude leaps in, speaking as though he were born and raised in London itself and says in a self-deprecating way, This is a rap that I wrote with my Grandma. Somehow his name has morphed into Julian. The others dissolve into delighted laugher and egg him on with everything there is within them. They don’t know that I listen, but then one or two see a poorly disguised smile and therefore pour it on anew with all that they have. I’ve mentioned that I’m mother to four extreme extroverts, have I not?
Now Julian is aggressively assigning parts and confidently stops his siblings when their croons no longer meet with his approval. And now they sing Numa Numa. If you haven’t done so already, a quick check on YouTube will show you an erstwhile cultural sensation that continues to feed my children’s souls. Their souls clamor after just this sort of thing. After that, you might want to check on Julian Smith and his Jellyfish song. That way, you’ll know the sounds that pervade the very air I breathe just now. It’s interesting air.