Last night Daddy and Mommy took me to a place called Charlottesville with big bumps on the land that Mama called “mountains.” I saw the big mountains at Yosemite, but there must be a lot of different types of those, because these ones were much smaller and really green.
We went to this really big place with a big white cover and got a place to sit on the grass. There were little ant people with lights all around them down at the front that Mama called a stage. These little people were singing and playing music and dancing around. I thought that music only came through the computer or in the giant box with wheels that Mama calls a car, but Mama explained that people have to make the music first, and at a “concert” that music is made right in front of you.
At first I was really, really scared. The sound wasn’t that loud, but when things like “drums” came in and the person singing got excited, it sounded like music thunder. I am scared of thunder and fire engines, and it was louder than either of those. I cried a little bit, but Mama held me and I put my face against her neck… then the world was okay again.
When I came back out, the noise didn’t bother me anymore. Daddy told me that I got used to it. I think that they must have turned the volume button down, though, because it wasn’t scary at all anymore.
Daddy took me and bounced me around on his knee while the little ants down front (Daddy called them “Vampire Weekend”) were jumping around and singing and playing too. I had heard Mama and Daddy playing the ants’ music in their giant box with wheels before, and I have always liked them because their music makes you want to bounce up and down over and over, which happens to be my very favorite thing to do. Hearing them playing right there was different, though, and all of the people dancing around made everything feel full of energy almost like when I get too many pieces of orange and start running around in circles in my little walker box.
Before I knew it, Vampire Weekend faded away into the distance of my dreams. Daddy had told me to take a nap on the way because we were going on an adventure, but I was much too busy singing in the car on the way to be bothered with that. Instead I heard the wonderful bouncy notes of the ant people playing while Daddy held me in his arms with his hand against mine. I think that the very meaning of happiness and safety just might be listening to music in my Daddy’s arms… my protector and my hero.
I have what is called a “walker” now. My Nana got it and Daddy put it me in it when I got home. Now I can walk all around the house and touch everything that I can reach from inside this little box with wheels. Thanks little pink walker thing for bringing me the joy of music. Mama says my “squealing” is really loud, but I’m just singing.