At some point this evening, the rain came crashing down on our battered tiles. Within seconds the verandah was soaked. We risked our lives (it seemed that way) and our carefully-coiffed hair to rescue M’s shiny-new tricycle along with the Rajasthani horse and three mini-dogs who were hitching a ride in the little cycle basket.
Our Dutch doors were then sealed shut. We tried leaving them a little open but our tea cups began flying off in the wind. Corn-on-the-cob, new (old) books (from a sale at the YMCA today), a friend, and Wimbledon on telly – the stuff of a lovely monsoon evening.
As the evening turned into night and the volleys were coming hard and fast on centre court, M came to me, looked up expectantly and said, “Violins in the stream”.
What’s that, I asked.
Violins in the stream, he said again. Sing that song.
It took me only a split second (I’m sharp that way) to realise he meant this song. I can’t help marvelling at the human mind and what it takes for us to remember and retain things. I am continually fascinated by the science of memory and this was just another example of how even a 28-month old toddler strings together words in his little head and comes up with something perfectly understandable and fairly accurate. I remember singing this to him several months ago and hadn’t really repeated it recently. (We’ve moved on to ‘Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer’ and ‘Five little monkeys jumping on the bed’. Dolly Parton would approve.)
Once I cottoned on, I said to M, ‘Do you mean ‘Islands in the stream’?’
Nnnoooo, he replied, emphasising the word to make sure I got it into my thick head. It’s ‘Violins in the stream’.
So there you have it. A classic reinvented. You learn something new every day with a child around. And as long as it is not Mr.R’s precious violins floating down the stream, it’s just fine.