Bad, Bad Leroy Brown
Yesterday, when Jill, Diane and I were helping our Mom into the car, Diane referred to Mom’s defiant left hand as “Leroy”. Wherever there’s opportunity for song, we’ll find it and fill the space with our (somewhat less than harmonic, but always full of fun) voices. I launched into “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown”, changing the lyrics to “he’s the baddest hand in the whole damn town…”. Jill and Diane joined in and we left Mom hanging until we were ‘good and through’ with our spontaneous musical serenade. Priorities.
Last night was particularly rambunctious. As they say, we were on “fi-yah”. We hit every off note like it was written for Pavorotti. Kid songs, Phantom of the Opera songs—no obscure song was saved from our C-rated (but with a whole lotta gusto) vocal talents. Dad joined us in our favorite, “my name is stegosaurus” song and like a moth to a flame, you could hear Craig quietly chime in from the other room. The sisters followed the voice to find him reciting a forgotten verse…the tyrannosaurus rex verse, complete with the thunderous “boom, boom, boom”. Craig’s eyes widened as he told the tale of T-Rex. When he reached the point of the booms, he pounded his thighs as the sisters either stomped or did the, always intimidating, hip-sway. Emily sat next to him giggling and shaking her head. Yes, welcome to the sing-alongs. She even hummed along to familiar “Phantom” tunes before the night was through!
After another long day of being pistol-whipped by life, it was a nice way to end the evening–laughing harder than we have in recent memory, following the current from random song to random song, letting go of all inhibitions and stressors for a moment.
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