This afternoon as I pushed my cart through WinCo, I was struck with jealousy for the bright & shiny little girl who stood in her parents cart, smiling & singing at the top of her voice. She was so happy, smiling at everyone who walked by. I wanted to sing along with her, right there in frozen foods.
This is the curse of adulthood for me. I’m able to sing along with every episode of Glee and have even been known to get up & dance occasionally, enjoying every single moment! From childhood I’ve believed life should be scattered with song & dance numbers, and there was a time I was the one planning them. So, while my wooden spoon becomes a microphone for me while I make dinner, I wasn’t brave enough to sing along with that sweet little girl today, even though I knew all the words.
If I’m in front of a preschool class, yes, I could sing, and be silly. Tell stories, dance & laugh; play and have a ball. That’s why I know that girl wouldn’t have minded if I sang with her; little kids love to share their joy.
When did I lose that? Where did my joy in music & being silly go? I didn’t know any of those people in the store; why did I care what they thought?
Next time I’m in a store (or an elevator, or anywhere) and I hear a song I know & like playing on the overhead music system, I won’t just hum to myself, I’ll sing out loud & proud! Maybe even dance a little. And if I see a child singing, I’ll join in. I promise.