Boom, boom, boom

Did you ever drive down the street with a car full of nephews or cousins, windows down, singing "The Ants Go Marching One by One" or "Who Stole the Cookies From the Cookie Jar?" at the top of your lungs? If so, did you ever pause at a stop sign and wonder if passersby could actually hear your performance? If anyone but you got to see the tone deaf bellowing of your cousin, head thrown back, lips smooshed forward during the booms in the chorus?

The answer is yes. People can hear you. They see your cousin, too. And they laugh.

I was walking home from the bus stop yesterday when a minivan with the back bungeed down drove by. It was filled with plants and a small child whose father was rocking out to the Wiggles like you wouldn't believe. Right there, at the stop sign on Highland and Stanton, was the cutest ever performance of the Pumpernickel Bread song, complete with steering wheel percussion and finger pointing on the off-beat.

I wish I had jogged down the road after them to listen in. I wonder if he, like me, uses small children as a buffer so he can sing fun songs as loud as he can. Does he, too, pretend the Veggietales Silly Songs cds he has are for relative entertainment, when in reality he sings "I Love My Lips" on the turnpike?

I think I don't want to be a writer anymore. Instead, I want a career as a kiddie song performer. I'll wear a red sequined unitard (I have one already) and dance around singing about pirates and delicious cereals. And someday, fathers in minivans will jam to my music and wonder if others can hear them.