This morning, as I was driving to work, “Can’t You Hear My Heart Beat” by Herman’s Hermits came on the radio. Since this happy-jumpy song makes me feel happy and jumpy (in a good way), I turned the radio up and contentedly bebopped along.
And then, for no reason at all, I began to cry.
Big crocodile tears.
Big UNNECESSARY crocodile tears.
What’s going on here? I sobbed.
For some reason, hearing Can’t You Hear My Heart Beat made me imagine my Momma as a little girl. (She must have been around 10 years old when the song came out.)
Suddenly, I wished very much to know 10-year-old Momma and mourned the fact that 10-year-old me would never get to play dolls or go on picnics with 10-year-old Momma.
(I think we would have been good friends.)
Then I realized that I’ve finally decided on my answer to the popular ice-breaker question:
“If you could have lunch with any person from history, who would it be?”
(I take ice-breaker questions very seriously, in case you were wondering.)
I would love to have lunch with the kid version of my Momma!
We’d munch on peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and chat about our favorite cartoons. Later, we’d ride our bikes through puddles and laugh as loud as we could.
Momma’s 10-year-old laugh.
That’s a sound I would have loved the chance to hear.
But for now, Herman’s Hermits will have to suffice.