Dear Spike:
We had you to sleep at seven minutes before midnight this evening. Your mother rocked you in her arms as I strummed softly on my guitar and sang to you.
I sang to you your lullaby...
Dream of castles,
in a land,
far beyond what we understand.
Dream a dream for me...
And then made up a few more...
Take Mia to her bedroom.
Take Mia to her crib.
Just rock her and love her and lay her down.
Do it quiet — don’t make a sound...
But it wasn’t until I sang to you a song I wrote for your mother...
I will take you to England,
To Spain and to France.
I will give you the moon,
And there we can dance.
You’re all I want.
But all you want is Disneyland.
Pirates of the Caribbean.
Big Thunder and Space Mountains.
The Matterhorn if it’s open.
Mr. Toad and Peter Pan.
Teacups in Wonderland.
All you want is Disneyland.
All you want is Disneyland...
... that you fell asleep.
Funny, that song puts your mother to sleep as well. I think her subconscious mind just can't resist the urge to take a dreamy stroll through the Magical Kingdom.
And so, I suppose, you are your mother’s child. And that is a very good thing — for I love her so very much.
And I love you. So very much.
Sleep well, little one. Dream a dream for me.
Love,
dad
2 comments:
When Elise was little, she hated being in the back seat of the car in her rear-facing carseat, and singing was the best way to calm her down. Ask me sometime about all the new verses we made up for "The Wheels On The Bus"!!!
(Also, I really like the teacup ride picture...nice!)
Awww, that is beautiful! Great picture too!
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