It seems that Evan has inherited the ability to sing made-up songs. Unfortunately that came from me, and I can’t sing to save my life, through I can pretend I can (unfortunately for my husband). Yesterday Evan was using the tricycle handle to loudly sing into. This was not the usual slow pace, understand all the lyrics song; this was a scream in the microphone with all your rage song.
He moved onto the crank handles of our living room window. When I asked him what he was doing, he stopped, turned, and said, “Sh, Mommy. I’m singing. I’m trying to rock out.”
Hmm. I wonder if it’s all the exposure to the alternative rock channel or Guitar Hero. But rock away, little guy.
As a side note: Another day with two differnt naps days, so please forgive the quick read, if it’s too quick. I’ll try for a longer post. Wish me luck.
Faemom 