Tuesday, September 25, 2007

our own Shirley Temple

Maggie likes to sing in the car, much to the chagrin of her older brother and sister who want perfect silence for their reading pleasure. However, I love to hear her trill whatever comes to her head. She doesn't sing songs performed by professionals, but her own lyrics, which make me giggle regularly.

"Oh, we are going over the tracks, over the tracks, over the tracks, the railroad tracks."

"Going home, going home. Home for dinner, chicken nuggets and peas."

Once last year when we were picking Maggie up from preschool her teacher made the cryptic comment, "It is obvious that she comes from a large family," but delivered it with a grin that made me assume this was a plus. As the third child she has to adapt and get along with those who are bigger and bossier, as well as the little boys who get more attention because they are babies. But I don't worry about her being left out or forgotten, because she demands our attention with her megawatt grin and lyrical patter.

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