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.)

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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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