Okay, I know that Bennett isn’t talking yet, but I swear he’s singing.
Well, I sing to him all the time. Usually my singing is a manipulative tool to distract the baby into surrendering to my will. But other times my singing just pours forth from the joy in my heart.
The other day I was making up an “I Love You” song when suddenly it morphed into “Skinnamarinkadink” from the 80’s Elephant Show.
Due to the charming nature of the song, naturally Bennett just melts into a puddle of grins and smiles. Not only that, I swear the tone of his yammering changes and it truly sounds a tad more melodic.
Oh, how do I put this?
Rather than hearing a bunch of short sounds (i.e. ba ba da da ma ma na na guh), I hear longer sounds, as if he’s humming with his mouth open. As Brian was putting Bennett to bed last night, he said, “I think he’s singing!” Except this time he was enjoying the music coming from his VeggiesTales book.
I’ve never been more fascinated by the human brain and it’s capabilities.