I cultivate the beat in the lil chump. I do, I do. Music is in the soul of every good Drake, from Grandma clapping her hands, to Auntie singing, to Dad stomping his leg as he played Scott Joplin on the piano.
Typical babysitting day, Rachel sneaks away, Lucas is asleep, he awakes and starts crying to be heard and taken out of the cage. On the double, rescue! I fly in there, beaming at him as big wet tears dribble down his chubby cheeks and he reaches out for me. I whisk him up, and we stop on the way to look in the mirror, where he presses his cheek against mine and hangs on tighter around my neck and giggles, staring, staring, staring at us. After waving goodbye to the mirror, we stop at the fish tank where he presses his big hand against the glass and alternately points or coos at the fishies swimming. His eyes are big with wonder.
Next stop is at the computer, where I load up some music from the internet. And we drum on each other. He likes hearing the empty thump on my stomach. He claps his hands in the air, I point at him, he points back; he waddles around clapping his hands, and clapping his sides; he giggles, he laughs, his eyes are bright, he is happy and having fun.
Then the Latin song by Chelo, "Cha cha" comes on. That kid has the Latin move in him! On this particular occasion, I whooshed him up which threw his head back and he giggled. I grabbed his arm and we swung around the living room together, me stomping and yelling "everybody do the cha cha!" in all the right parts. I put him down and he waddled, wildly swinging his hands in the air, making his baby noises, tottering every which direction. Wild passionate joy and happiness was there as he made his noises and I belched out the cha cha words and practiced my spanish words.
Suddenly, the song ended. He looked at me with disconcerted eyes, and suddenly the tears started welling up as he pointed to the speakers, telling me he wasn't done yet, and don't ruin the fun by turning the music off! I told him in dramatic overtones, "wait! Wait! Just wait! Another one is coming on!" he stood there, chubby finger pointing, sniffling. "Dangit," I thought. "It's not starting." When it did, he started wobbling around again, banging his sides, laughing, so I got the drums out where he could bang away. Rachel walked in then, and started laughing at the two of us (probably more at him than me since he was more fun to watch).
This kid is going to be a mad drummer someday if I have anything to do with it (ahem, symphonies always need drummers who can keep good time!). Maybe I can rent him out someday as a child protoge drummer. Walla Walla Symphony or Latin troupe, lookee out!!! He's on the rise up.
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