From Hugh to Eternity
Okay, let's be frank. People dig their own kids. And not for the first time I find myself standing right in the middle of the road as the everyman. Despite my awesome song writing skill and flaming hot guitar work and lilting yet soaring vocal prowess, I am not a particularly gifted musician. What I have comes through graft and pretence. My son, the reincarnation of the Buddha known to you as Prince Hughie Siddharta, is 16 months old and completely wondered me by singing the first phrase of Bah Bah Blacksheep the other day and has barely stopped singing it since. The return phrase is now often appended. The lyrics are all "bah bah bah bah bah" but I am openly amazed. The first two intervals are spot on. Tonight we had a rousing Hot Cross Buns added to the already formidable set list. My son, the God King known to you as Prince Norodom Hughie, appears to be a musical genius on par with Mozart and Whitney Houston. 16 months! Well outside the first year of perfect pitch already covered on this blog.
Labels: Cambodia, India, The Birth of Civilisation
posted by Unrelenting Tedium at 9:14 pm
4 Comments:
please don't replace me with an infant.
I can work harder. Vocal lessons.
Whatever it takes, I swear.
Just consider this a friendly shot across the bough. Though with the vamping on display the other night the lad has some way to go as a challenger.
Yes, but does he have any "wool"?
Not sure...but he has lots of bah bah bah bah bah bah bah...although he melted his mother the other day by replacing the bahs with mum mum mum mum mum mum...the dude has clearly been watching his old man's hot action groove closely.
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