My daughter loves to sing. When she was 7 or 8, whenever we took a road trip, she would sing her heart out from the backseat. Sometime she would take requests from us. I wasn’t good in remembering names of songs, and often had to go through a lengthy description to let her know what I wanted to hear. She was very patient with me.
On one trip she announced that she had turned herself into a radio. “If you want to change the station, you just tap my leg,” she said and started singing. A couple of times, I tapped her before she could finish the first sentence; we laughed hard.
The radio game continued for a couple of years. One day, to my surprise, I heard she sing “I am the great pretender”.
“I love that song,” I said.
“Yes, I know. That’s why I sing it. But, Mom, you have to change the station soon, ok? Because I only know the beginning of the song,” She said.
I didn’t want to change the station. Soon I heard, “La la la la…”
“How do I turn the radio off?” I asked.
“This is a special radio; you can’t turn it off,” she said loudly.
* * *
I miss my special radio.
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