I recently complained about my daughter’s love and obsession with the music from High School Musical.
But internets? Oh internets, something happened last week that convinced me there could be hope yet. Alice was in her nightly bath, playing with a naked Snow White and naked Jasmine (ok, it gets better), while I zoned out next to her on the edge of the tub. (Word to the wise: an 8 month pregnant mom with nothing substantial at 7PM but Britney Spears’ breakdown on the brain does not make for an engaged parent. So Alice is usually left to fend for herself when it comes to bathtime play these days, ’cause this mama can hardly keep her head up at night never mind engage in playtime).
Suddenly Alice started singing softly to herself and what came out of her mouth was like candy for my ears, which have been sorely filled with Disney songs as of late.
“oh, oh oh oh, oh, oh, you don’t have to go…”
Say what? Can you hear that? Is that not the sound of a high school memory coming back to say hello, a smell of beer and cheap wine on a Friday night in 1990 in a downtown Toronto basement filled with a room of 17 year olds? Is my child not singing LED ZEPPELIN Jesus lord?
“What was that you were just singing, Alice??” My heart pounding. Could it be? Oh PLEASE let it be!
“This is a song I learned from daycare” she said, making Jasmine dance to D’yer Mak’er. “Oh oh oh oh oh oh…. Isn’t it a fun song mommy?”
Now I was never an over-the-top Zeppelin fan, but I must admit I did go through my own Houses of the Holy love-fest in high school. My girlfriends and I used leave the confines of our Catholic all-girls school at 3PM and head over to L’s house, who not only had more freedom than most of us in high school, she also had the Houses of the Holy album. Which we would play over and over again while discussing how “non-conformist” we were. Right.
But those were the days of teenage wonder and glee and sadness all tied up together, closely interwoven. And hearing a song like D’yer Mak’er come out of my 4 year old’s mouth was like heaven for a moment. High School Musical be damned! There’s hope for my little friend yet.