Many of you, ok, all of you, have heard me complain about bedtime. It is not my favorite time of day. Usually, I just want the children to Go. To. Sleep.
The other night, though, I understood what the parents who speak of bedtime as a precious time are talking about.
M. is about to be in her first performance of Annie this week. She has been singing Maybe, Tomorrow, and NYC in the shower, during dinner, and when she goes to bed.
As I tucked her in, she looked up at me with her huge green eyes and asked, “Mommy, do you ever hear a song that makes your heart hurt so much that you could cry?”
She continued, “Because when Annie sings,
‘Betcha my life is gonna be swell.
Looking at them it’s easy to tell.
And maybe I’ll forget how nice he was to me,
And how I was almost his baby…’
I can’t help but cry. I know Annie’s going to stay with Daddy Warbucks,and I know she’s going to be happy, but it makes me cry anyway. And, Annie’s not even Annie. She’s my friend, Katie. I know she is happy, and I know she’s not getting taken away from Daddy Warbucks, but I still feel so sad. I asked some of my friends if that happens to them, and they didn’t know what I was talking about.”
I told her that I knew exactly what she was talking about because music has always had that effect on me, too.
And that bedtime was worth 1,000 crazy ones.
Now I dare you to listen to this and see if you don’t get verklempt: