If Whizz and Mavis want to get me singing then all they need to do is whistle the first line of a song and almost immediately and totally unconsciously I will start singing my socks off. This seems to amuse them, and I tolerate their ridicule. Not that Mavis wants me to sing when I want to sing because apparently I am too embarrassingly loud and enthusiastic.
Asked what type of music I like, I will often respond, “The kind I can sing along to”; not a well recognised genre. Sadly, I find it really difficult to still my vocal chords when the radio is on. The theme tune to the Archers sets me off in a trice, most tunes do really although I have a bit of trouble with The Minute Waltz.
Mavis and I love musical theatre and then, to my own embarrassment, I have to try really hard not to sing along – and occasionally I fail, earning a sharp shove in the side.
A few spoken words can set me off, for example Whizz might ask “What shall I do with…” and quick as a flash I’ll sing,
“The drunken sailor.”
There are a couple of songs that pop into my head on particular occasions – it’s rather sad really. If we are expecting family members for afternoon tea I find the words of If I Knew you were Coming I’d have Baked a Cake, going round in my head followed by the irritable opinion that it should be If I’d Known you were Coming; two obsessions, singing and writing converging in an ever running circle.
The other song comes up while I am emptying the cutlery basket after the dishwasher has finished. The chore is tedious so I play a little game – I know, it is pathetic isn’t it? I pick out all the knives trying not to miss a knife before going on to the forks, then the spoons. As I do this I am singing Oh a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down. I can’t help it.
Is this interesting? Probably not but I’ve just emptied the dishwasher and Mary Poppins needs to be throttled!