I have posted before about T's eclectic taste in music, thanks in no small part to my husband's fabulous personalised mix tapes*. He swings between artists and genres in an instant. There was a time I knew exactly how many plays of 'Yellow Submarine' it took to get from home to nursery with the CD on repeat. He enjoys Take That and songs from Glee, music from the Lion King and The Proclaimers. And don't even start me on his year-round passion for Christmas tunes or Julia Donaldson calypso-murdering 'A Squash and a Squeeze'.
Then came a request: 'Mummy, I want the la la song'. But which la la song was it? I wracked my brains. Hey Jude? No. 500 Miles? Nope. I asked friends, they suggested Kylie's Can't Get You Out of My Head (also no) or something by The Offspring. I have to admit not even suggesting the latter to him given the likelihood he'd ever have heard it. He asked, and asked, and asked, but it wasn't The Stylistics, Goldfrapp or even Deck the Halls with Boughs of bloody Holly he wanted. Stuck, I changed the subject and turned up Radio 2, introducing him to Girls Aloud and saving my sanity at the same time.
Then it happened. Months after the initial request there was a squeal from the back of the car. 'Mummy, it's the la la song!', and the culprit? Is This the Way to Amarillo of course (Peter Kay version). Having had that annoying 'answer on the tip of your tongue' feeling since he first asked I could finally breathe deeply again. Until, moments after it had finished, he said 'I want the la la song again'. I explained patiently that we couldn't rewind the car radio but that Mummy would put that song on a CD so we didn't lose it again. 'No not that one, I do like that one, but the OTHER la la song'.
It was back, that feeling that you just can't find the right word or remember where you know that person from, a deep pervading frustration that I must know the song he wanted but couldn't think of it! Eventually, in the way these things have of working themselves out, just as we'd forgotten the trauma of the whole experience it transpired that the original, best, first requested la la song he really really wanted was Paris 1919. To avoid future confusion we have now taught him the song's official name, and artist, should he feel the need for a hit of ex-Velvet whilst we're not around, saving everyone some heartache. The Youtube version is even bookmarked on the laptop, just in case.
To express just how much he loves this song, after a trip to a well known department store on Saturday to buy some new sandals he proudly told his keyworker we'd gone to 'John Cale' to get them and they were his la la shoes.
*C also has two, one of music to go to sleep to and one for wide awake time!