The Name of the Game

Now that summer’s (almost officially) here, I have to be creative to get work done. Lily is at camp all week, but four-year-old Vivi is home and waiting to be entertained. After a weekend of overstimulation, she really needed a nap today. I let her choose any surface in the house for her nap (my bed? the futon in the bonus room?), and, as she did last summer, she chose my home office couch. It’s backed with throw pillows that let her really nestle in.

Since she didn’t fall asleep right away, I thought a little soft music might help. She immediately rejected the classical choice, although she listens to WCPE all night long. I tried jazz; Ella Fitzgerald was deemed “too soft.” Facetiously, I suggested ABBA. (She’s been compulsively repaying “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” on her iPod, trying to learn the words. We didn’t know whether it was better or worse when she then chose Barry Manilow’s “Mandy” as her new obsession.)
Here I sit, ABBA’s greatest hits on full blast, and she’s sound asleep. There was a moment of contention when “Chiquitita” began (“Hey, is that soft music?!?,” “No, honey, it’ll get loud in a sec”), but ever since “Dancing Queen,” Viv’s been out cold.