Son #1 has learned Spanish, according to him.
Recently, he wanted to sing Silent Night, so I grabbed my guitar, and he grabbed his blue plastic four-string guitar, and we sang Silent Night in the ever-popular key of R.
We had gotten through the chorus twice when Son #1 announced his desire to sing the song in Spanish.
Surprise and confusion rapidly worked their way across my face and were quite apparent as Son #1 looked at me and said, “Yeah, I said Spanish. Hit it.”
So I commenced strumming the strings to the tune of Noche de Paz.
And he commenced singing, “Me spuh de Moosa, me suh, to suh, blue suh de goose uh. Me lah you suh. Loo skuh me doosa.” On and on he went.
He continued this for the next three minutes. After several choruses of Me spuh de Moosa, I finally had to stop. Since his mother is fluent in Spanish, I told him to sing it to her, which he did. She was in the bedroom down the hall.
I could hear him in the other room singing in his original dialect.
Then I could hear Charity singing in Spanish, “Noche de paz, Noche de amor, Todo duerme alrededor.”
He came running down the hallway, visibly upset. I asked him, “What happened, son?”
He stumbled over his words. “She uh…she…she,” He sighed. “She didn’t,” He finally got it out, “She’s not singing it right!”
I put my arm around his shoulder. “Yeah, I know, son. Momma lived in Mexico for most of her life, but she can’t even sing a simple song like Me Spuh de Moosa. It truly is a tragedy.”
to those who make up their own lyrics,
– Caleb
caneymountainblog.com 