My son woke up from his nap, ate half his weight in pizza, and then climbed on my lap and insisted I sing him a song. Then another. And another. He sat perfectly still, alternatively staring at the monitor (where my iTunes visualizer swirled) or clinging to my neck with his arms, pressing his cheek to mine to hear my voice. I sang him oldies:
“Be My Baby” by the Ronettes
“Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” Frankie Vali
“Will you still love Me Tomorrow?” The Shirelles
“Needles and Pins” The Searchers
“Little Red Riding Hood” Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs
“I love you baby! And if it’s quite alright I need you baby…”
You know, I honestly can’t think of anything I’d rather do.