Wake Me Up When September Ends

This weekend we were driving to the hardware store, discussing the stuff we were going to do to update the kitchen when out of the back seat Alex starts singing the Green Day song. Sure, the lyrics aren't too tough -- unburdened poetic syntax to be sure, but he's four. I don't know how he got to know the song, or why, but certainly it is too much to assume it is talent passed down genetically. Not only can't I remember stuff but my talent for singing lives only in the car with the iPod turned way up.

Giovanna once sang for over 45 minutes. It was a song she made up and apparently was amazing and amusing to the people in the car with her. They, however, are grandparents (although not hers) so contextualize the review.

It now appears that it is incumbent upon me to contact Joe Simpson and find out how to exploit these children for profit.

Until then, if you get a chance to hear a little boy sing Green Day's "Wake Me Up When September Ends" in that soft little voice that only a 4 year old getting ready to drift off to sleep can have, take it. Pure magic. When it's over and he sees that you've been listening he might give you one of those smiles that makes you melt.