My daughter runs around singing pop tunes; sometimes, the melody is "Let It Go," and sometimes, the melody just seems to be something she drafted in her head.
This reminds me that I spent my youth daydreaming about my own radio show; I would ride my bike down the road, belting out Madonna tunes for listeners throughout the tri-state area.
"I see," says my husband. "And did anyone suspect you were gay?"
Over the weekend, I introduce my daughter to Miss Saigon, which is not very good, but gosh, it's powerful. "This was the gospel of my own childhood," I explain. "Keep an eye on young Kim. She has a heart like the sea...."
This is a reciprocal relationship, so my daughter teaches me, as well. Were it not for Susie, I wouldn't spend time on Wikipedia, discovering that Kristen Bell actually has formal training in musical theater. (She left NYU for an ill-fated Broadway version of "Tom Sawyer"!) Also, it's Susie who has taught me about Princess Anna's social anxiety. When Anna dreams of meeting a handsome prince, she admits, "I want to stuff some chocolate in my FAAAAAACE!"
My husband has professional-actress aspirations for our daughter. I think this may be a bit premature--and could it really be a cover story, an easier statement than the truth, i.e., I'm in my fifties, and I enjoy watching "Frozen" every morning? Who's to say?
"Let it go," murmurs Susie. "Let it go!" And she creeps closer to the screen, never removing her gaze from the one plucky reindeer....the towers of Arendelle....
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