Let me start by saying I have no rhythm. I can’t hit a note. If I did hit a note I’d probably break it. I was in band for 7 years and all that time I never once was on the beat. What I’m trying to say is I’m not all that musical.
My wife…also not very musical.
But my wife likes to sing. Me…not so much. It’s not that I don’t like music. I like music. I just don’t like to make music. It’s kind of the opposite of how I feel about words. I don’t like to read them, but I do like to write them.
I didn’t really think I was ever going to sing to my kid. But apparently as soon as you become a father some kind of funky juke box is magically installed somewhere inside you. Now I sing all the time.
The juke box doesn’t run on quarters. It runs on fear. Fear of a massive mini-man meltdown. Sometimes I almost feel possessed. Chandler starts to fuss a little bit and all of a sudden I can feel the robotic arm randomly selecting a record inside me. Next thing I know I’m singing a song I’ve never heard of.
Why haven’t I heard of it? Because it doesn’t exist. I made it up. I’m like the Mozart of baby songs. Well I guess that was Raffi. And my songs don’t really make any sense. The lyrics are mostly just Chandler’s name over and over and the occasional “please for the love of God just fall of sleep” thrown in there. So maybe I’m the Picasso of baby songs.
When I look back to 4 months ago (that’s it? I’ve only been a father for 4 months? Seems like FOR.EV.ER.) and think about when people would ask me how I thought being a dad would change me, singing definitely wasn’t on the list. Singing was nowhere near the list. Singing got blacklisted from the list.
Guy - “Hey Nate, when you become a father you’re going to sing to your kid all the time.”
Nate - “I will punch you.”
Apparently I was wrong. Being a dad just does something to you.
Want to hear the songs I sing to Chandler? If 50 people request it in the comments section I will post some of my original hits. I promise.