Sunday, June 14, 2009
This morning I was singing away to myself: a choral bit of the St Matthew Passion. Daughter 2 wandered past. She’d been painting the inside of her bedroom cupboard, since we’ve recently had painters doing up her room but they didn’t go inside the cupboard. She was wearing her father’s dungarees. He’s 6’1 and a half and she’s 5’5. They were more than a little baggy on her.
“Do a dance,” I suggested. I began to sing my bit of the St Matthew Passion. She immediately put her hands in the dungaree pockets, pushing them out to accentuate the bagginess, and did a little clown dance, gravely hopping from one foot to the other and sticking the spare leg out to the side. I finished singing. She bowed. Then she proceeded on her way.
And I thought: 1) how wonderful to have a child who knows exactly how to react to such a ridiculous request, and 2) presumably all families have their own eccentricities which they understand perfectly but which no one else ever sees.
I love her so much.
Bach might have thought it a bit odd.