The Post for High Heeled Sister

My sister is the singer in the family. I did band, so I feel somewhat musically inclined, but am certainly no musician (a music appreciator, of course, a music maker, um, no – unless you count my tambourine shakin’ prowess in toddler music class).

Anyway, I’m not a singer. Unless I’m in the car with the windows rolled securely up, the radio blasting “Midnight Train to Georgia” and a long stretch of highway in front of me. But that’s when the stars align.

Of course, with peanut around, we do a fair share of singing. I’ve gotten over my self-consciousness of singing out loud in front of others (and by others I mean the hubby and peanut), but I still acknowledge my limitations. So, last night, during bath time as peanut was playing with his numbers (and by numbers, I mean those foam stick-to-the-tub-when-wet-letters, but he calls all letters numbers – hey, he isn’t even two, I’m cutting him some slack) I sang him the alphabet song. He laughed and clapped after my first pass through.

So I asked, “Would you like mommy to sing it again?”

Peanut: “No.”

Me: “Are you sure? Mommy can sing ABCs again?”

Peanut: “No.” But smiling. So I forge ahead and begin to sing with gusto my ABCs.

Peanut proceeds to cry. And cry. Until I stop.

Nothing teaches humility like a 21 month old nekkid baby who thinks letters are numbers and all colors are yellow but knows that you can’t sing a lick. Maybe I’m raising the next Simon Cowell.

In other news, I went on a mini-shopping spree today. I was in a desperate way for summer clothes, so the hubby and peanut dragged me out knowing if I went alone, I wouldn’t actually buy anything (it’s much easier to justify the $70 silk top that will look totally cute at sister-in-law’s wedding rehearsal dinner when the hubby sees you in it and says you have to get that than staring at a price tag in bad dressing room lighting by yourself). Anyway, a pivotal moment occurred while perusing the DSW aisles. I ended up buying a pair of cute casual sneaks, a pair of brown heeled sandals and a pair of blue ballet flats…and the ones I’m most excited about wearing?

The flats.

HORRORS! Please don’t tell the blog title police. (But seriously, they are ADORABLE.)


One thought on “The Post for High Heeled Sister

  1. Don’t take it personally. I have been in tons of musicals and madrigal choirs, swing choirs, concert choirs, etc and I remember singing to my first baby and him crying the whole time. Yipes!

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