My four year old is composing a musical. No, really she is. It’s entitled “Chicken Nugget, part II.” (Does anyone else sit and ponder how their child’s brain works? To me, watching their mind in action is an unfathomable, but highly enjoyable process.)
Evidently her musical is about a chicken nugget, who has wild adventures, all sung to the tune of “Away in a Manger.”
However, inspiration for the four year old’s musical mostly seems to strike when she is asked to work. I’ll tell her to make her bed when she suddenly clutches her head and says, “WAIT! I just got a great idea for my musical! You know, Chicken Nugget, part II?” (as if we could forget the title of her musical.) “I’ll be there in a minute!”
And evidently a minute to a four year old is the equivalent of never.
I have long considered myself a patron of the arts and a fan of musicals everywhere. Since junior high, I’ve had secret aspirations to be Anita from West Side Story. The fact that I can’t sing and the obvious genetic proof that I don’t have a single drop of ethnic blood inside of my body does not stop me from belting out, “A boy like that, who’d keel your brother, forget that boy and find another, one of your own kind, stick to your own kind,” whenever I take a shower.
My husband discovered when we got engaged that half of my c.d. collection were the soundtracks from musicals. While it gave him serious pause, he still married me, gentle reader. That is a love. Now, after being married to me for twelve years, he’ll even admit he likes The Sound of Music and that he doesn’t absolutely hate Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, he just dislikes it intently. That’s the power a musical loving girl can wield on the man she adores.
So, being the musical lover that I am, I have tolerated the four year old’s attempts at getting out of work with a dignity and charm not normally present in my mothering skills. Yes, I know she’s just using Chicken Nugget, Part II as an excuse, but it is a creative one and that sort of creativity should be encouraged.
However, we have reached new heights with the musical composing.
This weekend when I denied her access to the computer, the four year old stomped over to the piano and started composing a tune with the catchy chorus of “My mom is a super meanie! She is so mean! I can’t do anything!” When I gave her the ol’ stinkeye, she declared innocently, “What? I’m just writing a new part to my musical. Poor chicken nugget has a mean mom who won’t let him do anything, not even play the computer!”
Oh gentle readers, it may be time to nip this musical in the bud.