Logan and I took a bus to a free movie today. (Click link to find out about the free movies in your area).
Watching free movies in the big theater is our Tuesday and Wednesday routine; we run down the hill and take public transportation to the local Regal Cinemas for their Free Family Film Festival. We pack a bottle of water, some peanuts or raisins or popped popcorn. Sometimes we go to the grocery store and Logan buys a packet of Skittles. Its affordable, its a treat, its fun.
Well, its a fun treat when the bus is on-time, anyway.
The bus was 16 minutes late, which meant we were really late for the movie. Since the tickets are first-come, first-serve, this made me a bit nervous. But not Logan. No, Logan doesn’t get nervous. He gets musical.
He decided to sing a song about the bus being late. At the top of his lungs. To the bus driver and the two other people on the bus.
Logan’s songs are creative, to say the least. They sometimes rhyme, occasionally have a melody, but always revolve around being Strong, loving his Dad, and having a name that is spelled L-O-G-A-N S-M-Y-L-I-E.
Sometimes he sings about having lots of ear wax. Sometimes the song is about his desire to “never kill you.” And if those two things weren’t disturbing enough in the privacy of your own home, sometimes Logan sings about how only the doctor is allowed to touch his penis.
Today’s song on the bus, however, was even more awesome than anything he has ever composed before.
“We’re going to be late to Horton Hears a Hoo–because of youuuuuuuuuu.”
I told Logan not to sing Out Loud.
“I’m not singing LOUD” he said, and sang some more.
“My Mommy says bad words–this bus has lots of germs–don’t touch anyyyy-thinggggg!!!”
“Logan, we don’t sing on the bus…” I said.
He didn’t stop. He was going for the chorus.
“You can’t smoke or drink on the bus!! Because it would bother everyonnnne!!!! And you would DIEEEEE! of CANCERRRRRRR!!!!”
This, coming from a five-year-old who looks very, very much like he may have first-hand knowledge of “cancerrrrrrrrrrr” because he is a hairless toe-head. He wanted it that way, asking the barber to shave his head and make him “bald.” The resemblance to a chemo patient didn’t dawn on me until my child–who has naturally flesh-colored hair–ran over to me right after the buzz-cut and I realized that in addition to being bald, he also had no visible eyebrows.
Yeaaaaah. Oops. Sorry about that, kid.
So in addition to the song already being annoying, it was especially disturbing coming from what looked like a young cancer patient.
“Logan. You also can’t sing on the bus.” I said firmly.
He looked at me, shocked. Like, “what do you mean the world isn’t a Broadway stage full of random acts of music and dance?”
“You can’t sing–EVER?” he asked.
“Right, honey. No singing on the bus.” I said.
“But, you can’t smoke or drink on the bus, and I’m not smoking or drinking,” he said.
“And that is good, but you also can’t sing, honey, I’m sorry.”
“Because it will give you cancer and kill you? It will make you die?” he asked. Clearly that must be the reason for not doing things on the bus: because they will kill you. With cancer. (?!?!)
“No, honey, singing isn’t going to kill you, but you just can’t do it on the bus.” I said.
“Then what CAN you do on the bus?” he asked.
I mean, if you can’t smoke, and you can’t drink, and now you can’t even sing original songs, what IS a 5-year-old on an 8-minute bus ride to do?
“Nothing, honey. Just sit here quietly and ride the bus,” I said.
“ugh. I don’t like that” Logan said, and went right back in to his song.
“We’re almost HERE! My Daddy drinks BEEEEEEER! But not on the bus because it gives you CANCERRRRR!”
I. Give. Up.
Thank God we were at the movie theater and getting off the bus at that point; I don’t think I would have enjoyed the second verse much.