Baby Plumbers... and singing along

Further to my rant about pants (hey, it rhymes!) the other day, yet another reason to hate jeans and t-shirts on little children:  two kids at Mrs. ViKi's program yesterday had "plumbers' cracks."  Ick.  The jeans ride down waaay too low on their tushies, and there's just not enough shirt to cover it up.
Give me a nice pair of stretchy cotton overalls - PLEASE!
I was also thinking about the fact that everywhere I go with the kids, singing opportunities simply abound.  Everybody wants kids to sing!  They are expected to sing just about everywhere they go.  They have no idea how rare that actually is in life.
I did have a streetcar driver once who was singing loudly over the PA and encouraging passengers to sing along.
But, in general, unless you go to the sing-along version of Handel's Messiah in December, there are all too few public sing-a-longs in our culture.
Girl Guides was good for that, though I suppose most camps would be.  Mighty dorky, but they get you singing all the time.
Other camps might have good songs, but one advantage of Guiding is that you're expected to already know many of the songs.
Hey, shul is like that!  Why didn't I think of that at all up until now, in the 2 days that this has been running through my mind?
Shul is supposed to be like that, anyway.
Maybe that's why the really musical bits, done right, really send a chill up my spine and make me feel like I'm totally connecting.  Or make me cry.  Or sing along.
I wish my brain was working right and I could figure out all the connections between these things and not sound totally inarticulate and maybe hormonally-crazy.
Ted says when Gavriel Zev turns 2, it'll start to happen.  We'll see.


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