{"id":208,"date":"2006-08-23T04:35:42","date_gmt":"2006-08-23T04:35:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/2006\/08\/23\/lightning-butterfly\/"},"modified":"2006-08-23T04:35:42","modified_gmt":"2006-08-23T04:35:42","slug":"lightning-butterfly","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/2006\/08\/23\/lightning-butterfly\/","title":{"rendered":"Lightning Butterfly"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>As you might have figured out by now, we do a lot of singing in our household. We sing to get chores done, <a title=Stop! href=\"\/?p=129&#038;phpMyAdmin=y7-wyFW16QINBVwSxwbVWn-cg16\">sing to walk<\/a>, sing to celebrate, <a title=\"Thank you, Raffi!\" href=\"\/?p=84&#038;phpMyAdmin=y7-wyFW16QINBVwSxwbVWn-cg16\">sing to eat<\/a>, <a title=\"homegrown lullaby\" href=\"\/?p=9&#038;phpMyAdmin=y7-wyFW16QINBVwSxwbVWn-cg16\">sing to go to bed<\/a>&#8230; heck, sometimes we even <a title=\"Shop, Momma, Shop!\" href=\"\/?p=95&#038;phpMyAdmin=y7-wyFW16QINBVwSxwbVWn-cg16\">sing when we shop<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p>As you can tell, there&#8217;s a lot of singing going on. This is not to say that we&#8217;re particularly good, mind you &#8211; just enthusiastic. In particular, I really enjoy making up songs about whatever happens to be going on. I guess this could be called improv, but I think of it more as &#8220;filking for toddlers&#8221;. It&#8217;s fun, particularly because they&#8217;re usually such an appreciative audience.<\/p>\n<p>A couple of months ago, C surprised me as I was putting him to bed. I asked him which lullaby he&#8217;d like to hear, and he said &#8220;No, no. I&#8217;ll sing you a lullaby.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Like I said. It surprised me. &#8220;Okay. What&#8217;s it called?&#8221; I asked.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Um&#8230;Lightning Butterfly. Yeah, Lightning Butterfly.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>This time, I generated the appropriate enthusiasm. &#8220;Sounds good! Let&#8217;s hear it!&#8221; I squatted on the floor next to his bed. He laid back and began to sing. The song was a rambling stream of consciousness, involving a fair amount of nonsense mixed in with ruminations about things he liked. Typical verses were like &#8220;and I really like to watch movies and play trains and&#8221;, followed by nonsense words and then &#8220;pirates and dinosaurs&#8230;&#8221;, followed by more nonsense words.<\/p>\n<p>Don&#8217;t get me wrong. It was exciting to hear him put together a tune on the fly. However, the song just didn&#8217;t seem to end. It went on and on and on, often looping back on itself. I was finally getting desperate enough to interrupt him when he stopped and said &#8220;there! Did you like it?&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Fantastic!&#8221; I said, standing up.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Now, you sing it!&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Umm&#8230;Err&#8230; &#8220;I don&#8217;t know the words.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Okay, I&#8217;ll sing it again and you listen. Then you sing it.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Uh-oh. I really didn&#8217;t think I was capable of memorizing 10 minutes of stream of consciousness. For that matter, I didn&#8217;t think it would be the same the second time he sang it. Casting about for some escape route, I fell back on that oldest of parental tricks: &#8220;Oh, I can&#8217;t. It&#8217;s too late. It&#8217;s bed time! You need to get to sleep.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Ohhhh Man!&#8221; He flopped back on his bed dramatically.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Night night, big guy.&#8221; I said.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Night, dad.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;It really was a great song,&#8221; I said.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I know.&#8221; he said.<\/p>\n<p>I turned off the light and left the room, closing the door softly behind me. Not my most shining of moments.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>As you might have figured out by now, we do a lot of singing in our household. We sing to get chores done, sing to walk, sing to celebrate, sing to eat, sing to go to bed&#8230; heck, sometimes we even sing when we shop. As you can tell, there&#8217;s a lot of singing going [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[118],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-208","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-daddytales-c"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DpYi-3m","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/208","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=208"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/208\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=208"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=208"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=208"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}