Wait a Minute . . . Say That Again?

Sunday after church, Glenna came into the kitchen. She was brimming with the excitement of discovery.

Mom! Rachel gave me a Beach Boys song, and I finally heard the words for Little Deuce Coup!

[Cue the flashback music and wavy dream sequence]

We were in our second Florida house and were probably cleaning the house with the music blasting. I started to pay more attention to what my five year old was singing and heard, She's my little loose tooth, you don't know what I got . . .

I sang the song to Himself the same way that evening, only to be corrected.

No, Mom, it's "SHE's my little loose tooth, not IT's my little loose tooth.

I stood corrected and sang it that way ever since.

[Cue the flash forward music and wavy wake up sequence]

I can't believe it, Mom! I finally get what that song was saying! I'm so embarrassed!

Honey, don't be embarrassed. That's what family lore is made of! And Darlin', you can bet I'll still sing it the other way until the day I die.