we’re in the car, and i’m playing Tammi Terrell and Marvin Gaye, just enjoying their magic together. and my son says, “play that again,” picks up the iPod and starts “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” from the beginning.
when the song’s over he takes the iPod and shuffles around – i’m a little nervous because i’m not in the mood for the Gossip or Florence and the Machine.
instead, he plays Amy Winehouse’s “Tears Dry On Their Own” and we sing all the words to “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” over the changes. which, he brilliantly noted, are largely the same.
that’s my boy.