My Life as a Kung Fu Fighter

Saturday, February 24, 2007

I woke up to my daughter trying to convince my husband that Cat Power was "too sad" to listen to this morning. It was sunny, Adam was cooking breakfast, and Amaris was drawing. There's no sad anywhere in the picture.

Hooray! She's caught on to the notion that music fits a certain mood we're in. Last night on the way to a gallery reception, she wanted to listen to very upbeat, singable tunes. In the backseat, she's beating her hand against the door like a drum, and shouts periodically, "Let's get slammin', GIRL!"

And when she was dressing up like a princess and began awarding Adam and I with treasures (coins and jewelry), Adam played what Amaris considered the most inappropriate music of all. Loud, fast, hardcore. And this is what came next:

"Not THIS music! My TALENT! I have to do my TALENT! MYYY TAAALLEEEENNNNNTTT!!!"

I'm not sure if harcore will ever fit Amaris's mood in the future, but her firm stand against it now suits me just fine. When trying to decide between eating, sleeping and regurgitating, I'm almost never in a loud, fast mood.

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