Thursday, November 09, 2006
The Attack of Sabrina
A lovely moment, the other night:
I was sitting on the floor in the living room, playing a made-up song on a ukelele in front of the coffee table, and Sabrina was standing in front of me holding on to my right knee with her left hand and to the top side of the ukelele body with her right. She was singing gibberish in time with me pretty softly, watching my fingers and not, as she often does, muting any of the strings with her hands, and as I started playing a solo part she stopped singing for a half a minute, just watching, and then as I started playing faster and moving up the neck she started singing again. And as she sang, still softly, she leaned in to the right side of my face and put her lips on my right cheek, singing and slobbering on me. I was looking down at the neck, really focusing and, if I may say so, shredding (yes, I'm that old - I still call it shredding), so my face didn't move and I didn't look at her, I was pretty glazed over. But she just kept singing and slobbering, rubbing her face right against the right side of my mouth. It literally melted my heart and after a while I stopped and hugged her for as long as she would stand it. Which was a long time, because she's a little angel.