"My song first, Maria. Then we'll listen to yours."
Maria glares at me, her hands on her hips. "We listen to yours all the time," she declares.
I roll my eyes at her and reach for the sleeve that holds my favorite 45.
"No!" Maria shouts. "It's my turn."
I stop and think. Now that I have discovered I am good at taking care of people, I realize I am not taking good care of my sister. I can share, can't I? I'll get to listen to my favorite song later. After all, isn't it better to be kind?
"Okay," I tell Maria. "We'll listen to yours first."
With a triumphant grin, Maria slips her favorite 45 onto our plastic record player and the music of Lipps, Inc. blasts through our cotton candy pink room. We dance to Funkytown, Maria, Wendy, and I. We giggle when the "Darth Vader" voice sings, "Won't you take me to". We lip sync, we spin, we sing, we laugh.
Maria's song ends and now it is my turn. Maria and Wendy don't stay because they don't care for my song, but that is alright with me.
Reverently, I place the 45 on the record player and close my eyes in anticipation. The music hits me, wafts around me and fills me with gladness. I sing along without dancing. Singing is more important.
I don't really know what the words mean. The melody is all that matters and I sing every note perfectly.
"Lookin' For Love"...
What a song!