As we pulled away from the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru, the synth and trumpets of We Are the World signal to Pants that mama is about to start singing. Double-fisting his two vanilla frosted donuts - "Hey mama, Turn it up please?"
There comes a time when we heed a certain call...
Yeeeeeesssss. As you wish, my son.
Now, Pants is not interested in singing in front of anyone. Even me. And that bums me out because he has the sweetest singing voice. When I hear him start to sing, I end up standing outside his bedroom door for a listen. But every now and then the music takes him over and he bursts out singing.
I love those moments so hard. Those are the times when he and I are without a doubt speaking the same language.
So in the car this morning he would go on to sing his two favorite parts of the song (Michael Jackson and Bob Dylan respectively) but then he surprised me. Rounding the corner toward his school Pants loses all semblance of control.
"Alright now, Let me hear ya!", he wails as he becomes a tiny 6 year-old version of Ray Charles.
Well friends, I cannot decline an invitation from Pants (or Ray) to sing louder as it is written in my DNA to always join a sing-a-long. So with that, I turned away from the school and pulled into the mini-plaza parking lot so that Pants and I could finish out the song proper and with the appropriate amount of commitment.
Leaving the parking lot he confirmed for me that all of the years I have spent randomly singing at him everyday where not in vain.
"I love it when you sing with me" (OMG WHAT!? REALLY?)
"Dude, I will sing with you any time you want. What should we sing on the way home from school?"
"Oh that's easy, mama. It's Friday and next I want to sing We Are a World with Plum too"
In my fantasy mom world, Plum will see his Michael, Bob and Ray and raise him a Tina, Diana, Bruce and Cyndi. I will take the Lionel, Dionne and Stevie. It will be a masterpiece. A straight up car ride sing-a-long masterpiece.
And I can't wait.