1 Mother 2 Another

A few years ago, my friend Abby told me
about a new fad in greeting cards – the ones that play music
when you open them. “These,” Abby swore to me,
“are golden. They keep the boys occupied for EVER (which, in
early childhood, means ten minutes at a stretch). You’ve got
to get some.”


She was, of course, right, and as soon as my girls heard one it was
love at first listen. Fast forward a few years, and today
we’re the proud owners of quite a collection. The girls have
never met a musical card they didn’t like, and we keep every
one given to one of us. I added them up, and we’ve got about
twenty-five of them. At five or six bucks a pop, it’s almost
a collection that needs extra theft insurance.

The collection lives on our kitchen desk,
and the girls will periodically go fish one off and give it a
listen – it’s almost their on-demand iPod. I love
watching them walk around, intently trying to memorize Miami Sound
Machine’s “Conga” or figure out all the words to
“Hang On Sloopy”.


But even more than using the cards as an iPod, the girls use them
as their own personal soundtracks to the movies about their lives
running in their heads.


When Cora’s sad and missing Daddy, she runs over and grabs a
card, then sits contemplatively – dare I say mopingly –
on the couch and plays Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You,
Babe” on a constant loop. When Maddie’s feeling sassy,
I see her walking around the house as she attempts to “Shake
Your Groove Thing”. And this will come as no surprise to
people who know Cora: many days, she will select a card from the
kitchen, hold it above her head, and announce, “Presenting
– Her Presidency, Cora!” Then she’ll parade
importantly around as “Hail To The Chief” plays –
and she hums along.


For Valentine’s Day the girls both got new cards and
they’ve been busy mastering them. It’s been a tough few
weeks for Maddie and she hasn’t turned to cheery cards much
recently, but yesterday morning she was obviously feeling something
stirring, because she grabbed a card after breakfast and said,
“Can I bring this card with me on the way to school?” I
said yes, and away we went.


Maddie would walk a bit in silence, getting ahead of me and Cora.
Then she’d stand still and say, “A one, a two, a
one-two-three-and-a-“ and then throw open the card.
She’d then burst into huge, yellow-daisy-happy skips as the
card belted out, “I can’t see me lovin’ nobody
but you for all my life! When you’re with me baby, the skies
will be blue for all my life!”


The card would finish, she’d stop, count herself in, and go
all over again.


I see that girl skipping to the music and have no idea what’s
going on in her head, other than a movie that only she can see. But
I content myself with the knowledge that, whatever the screenplay,
at least it’s a happy one.