Canoeing With God

One balmy afternoon while Bill's family was in town, we were all sitting out on the porch soaking up some sun--all but Dad, who was snoozing on the sofa, I believe. Anyway, Allyson had brought out this microphone toy that she once won at a cakewalk. It plays classical music with an electronic, tinny sound that is only mildly annoying if she sings along.

Allyson on a Much Colder Day

While we half dozed, Allyson danced all around the patio to what Mom said was The Flight of the Bumblebee.  She sang her own words, which sometimes rhymed and went surprisingly well with the tune. After she finished her song, she gave the mic to Allum, her beloved toy puppy who was sitting in a chair at the picnic table. She propped the microphone right against his mouth.

Allum on our Last Canada Trip

"Listen to this, guys! Allum's gonna sing now," she said.

I gave her a little smile and then closed my eyes, basking in the gentle sun. "That's nice, honey," I murmured.

My eyes snapped open when the music ended and I heard a somewhat muffled, rather echoey announcement: "You can hear more songs on www.allum.com. That's W-W-W...dot-Allum-dot-com. Thank you!" Though Allyson's voice sounded oddly distant, she had the perfect enunciation of a radio announcer.

I exchanged glances with Bill's brother Trevor, who raised an eyebrow.

"Where does she learn these things?" I asked, leaning forward in my chair to get a closer look. It took me a moment to spot Allyson. Peeking out from under the canvas cover of the barbecue grill, she crouched against the back wall of the house, clutching a purple cup to her mouth. 

"You gotta clap now!" she whispered, and we all clapped almost enthusiastically. Then she launched into Allum's next number.

I should write about this on the blog, I thought, and then promptly forgot the whole thing. But it came back to me last Friday night when Allyson set up another concert for Allum in her bedroom. She set him on top of an overturned laundry basket and nestled a blanket around him, carefully balancing another one of her microphones against his mouth. The microphone was literally almost as big as he was.

She turned on Bill's new digital picture frame and cranked up one of the Billy Joel songs that Bill's sister Lisa had loaded onto it. While Bill and I looked on from Allyson's bed--well, I know I was watching, but Bill was actually reclining with only one eye open--Allum belted out, "Whatsa matter with the clothes I'm wearin? Can't you tell that they're out of style?"

"That Allum sure can sing," I said, and Allyson beamed with pride.

Toward the end of the second Billy Joel song, Allyson couldn't resist getting in on the act. She started to swing her arms, alternating them in a swimming motion. "I'm swimmin' with God," she said soberly.

Bill opened his other eye. "Swimming with God?"

"Yes. If I ask God to come swimming with me, he comes. Right, Mama?"

"I guess so, Baby."

"He's there even if we can't see him, 'cause he's with me all the time, right?"

"That's right." I nodded vigorously.

Allyson leaned forward and moved both arms in unison. "I'm canoein' with God," she said.

Bill and I both burst into laughter.

"You've got some imagination, girl!" Bill said.

And that was the end of Allum's concert. Allyson grabbed the microphone. "If you want to hear more, you can go online to www.allum.com. That's www.allum.com."