My son has recently discovered that he has a voice, and that it sounds better when it is echoing off the walls of the bathroom!
So, he goes in for his bath and we get treated to a good ten minutes of non-stop singing.
He starts off with One Direction, then moves to Bollywood.
“Owww!” he yells. Looks like he has stubbed his toe. The ‘Owww’ transforms into a Michael Jackson number. We are all gathered outside listening to him, smiling in enjoyment.
There is a cuckoo that says coo, coo in rhythmic intervals from a tree in the garden. This gives him scope for a new composition of his own.
“Coo, coo, I am singing. Oh Cuckoo ….”, he sings.
Suddenly, he hops genres and is belting out old forgotten nursery rhymes.
We thoroughly enjoy his performance. Suddenly, the shower stops. We hear the latch turning. We flow away like water, to our respective chores.
My son comes out, humming softly to himself.