Mexican pop and the longest sandwich

Recently I convinced Miss B to select a few CDs from the public library, however, she's been reluctant to review them for me. She knows that I occasionally post her mini reviews on Facebook, and often groans when I do that. Today I asked her if I could bribe her to do a review and she said, "I don't know what that means." When I offered to let her pick something out from Target if she did some reviews, she relented.

Lately she's been doing a lot of intricate drawings, so I gave her the option of drawing a review instead of reciting one to me. As she listened to Confesionesby Ana Barbara and Jennifer Pena, she quickly got to work on her drawing. When she heard the second track of the Mexican pop CD she said, "I don't like this music. I don't like this one."

After she finished her drawing, Miss B said that a crab was eating "the longest sandwich." She also drew someone surfing. When I asked her what she thought of the music she said, "It's a old review?!"

Then she grabbed the computer and wrote:

i  did not like it  i sat in mom!

the title is called nothing?

i am angry at mom!

Adios En Clave De Bolero. We Hardly Knew You.

The third CD from Miss B's most recent library excursion, a Spanish language collection called En Clave de Bolero, did not capture her attention. When I put it on for the first time, DJ B put her fingers in her ears. She was playing with a toy dollhouse and ignored the music entirely. I turned it down a bit since it seemed to be too loud for her and she continued to work on her project of removing address label stickers from her plastic dollhouse. Yet, after a few songs she pushed stop on the player, removed the CD and handed it to me wordlessly. When I asked her about it she said, "I don't like it. You told me I could watch a movie."

Obviously bored with the flurry of CD reviews that I was asking of her, Miss B reached her breaking point. I relented and let her watch a DVD that she picked up from the library.

The Little Willies' Fly Funeral Music

While at the public library DJ B selected the self-titled CD from The Little Willies from the shelf. The copy that she picked up had a purple cover and I'm sure that was part of the allure. Upon listening to it for the first time, Miss B smiled and hopped around before asking me the name of the band. She ran in place, kicking her feet and then ran and kicked going forward and backwards with her hands on her hips.

Miss B said, "It's like Kai-Boy music!.... No, cowboy!" I asked her if she wanted it louder and she yelled, "Don't write! Just watch." She then did a plie and jumped to the beat. After putting on some lip gloss she hummed along to the music and lip synced using her lip gloss wand as a microphone. 

After some technical difficulties (the CD skipped), Miss B sang, "sitting on a wall...here's what I did. Took off my shoes." She then applied lip gloss to her toe nails, spun in a circle, and made herself dizzy. She turned her attention to some dead bugs on the window sill and told me that she was sad, saying that the bugs probably needed a hug. She asked me how they died and said that she wanted to write a letter to them. She dictated it to me: "Dear Fly. I love you so much. I am the owner. The bug is my pet. Love, B."

It's amazing how quickly a dance party turned into a memorial service for a dead fly. That's the beauty of the 4-year-old mind.

Cranky DJ B Despises Opera

Well, it was finally time to return Seussical to the public library, so DJ B was invited to turn her attention to some of the other CDs that she's selected over the past few weeks. First up was Denyce Graves' release Voce di Donna. The first time we played it DJ B exclaimed "too opera-y!," a surprising comment since she went through a heavy-duty opera phase in which she listened to non-stop Verdi and even borrowed a neighbor's collection of opera DVDs.

I probed further and asked her if she liked opera, to which she responded "no!" I should probably mention that she was already in a bad mood before we put the CD on, so I should have anticipated this response. She played with a book she'd been looking at, grunted, folded her arms across her chest, and grunted some more. I noticed, however, that her toe was rhythmically tapping in the air. She looked at the CD booklet, tossed it up above her, and said, "This is boring! This is too boring! Too opera-y and too boring! I just wanna eat! No music!" She grunted, folded her arms again, but then started to rock back and forth when track 2 came on, bobbing her head and tapping her toe on the floor. She grunted at me with a scowl on her face and said, "Sit with me and turn this off. I don't like it," before screaming, "Turn it off!" She then, finally, resorted to taking control of the CD player and turned it off herself.

Today I played the CD again (after feeding her lunch) and Miss B's first reaction was similar to the last time. She yelled, "Opera. Boring!" But then she immediately started to sing along and do ballet moves to the music. Appropriately, she was already wearing 3 layers of leotards and 2 tutu skirts. She smiled as she performed for me, dancing and then balancing a frisbee on her head.

The lesson from all of this is that mood and food are clearly correlated with DJ B's reception of opera music.

All Seussical All the Time for DJ B

Recently we saw a performance of the Dr. Seuss-themed musical Seussical at the San Francisco School of Performing Arts (SOTA) and Miss B was riveted. It quickly became her new obsession, with its cheery songs, fluorescent-colored costumes, and high-wire acrobatics. She announced to us that she wanted to see the musical again and that she wanted to BE IN IT.

Since we haven't yet found a musical theater program for 4-year-olds, we settled for checking Seussical: The Musical (Original Cast Recording) CD out of the public library. When it arrived through inter-library loan, DJ B was ecstatic and the CD has barely left our player since we picked it up.

Before listening to the recording for the first time, Miss B got into a fancy pink leotard, purple tutu and put on one pink glove in preparation for her performance. As the music started she kicked her feet into the air, laughed excitedly and sang along. Getting into character, she pronounced, "I'm the sour kangaroo," as she shook a cape around her waist and over her head. As the music progressed, Miss B imitated various characters from the musical. At one point she put on a large raincoat and said, "I'm the mayor." She then left the room and returned just wearing a leotard, pronouncing, "I'm the trapeze girl." For her next costume change she placed a pink tutu on her head and announced, "Jojo!" And, then, for the final act she put on a fluffy tutu and simply stated, "Gertrude McFuzz." She then tossed a balloon into the air, tied another balloon to a stuffed Easter bunny and swung it around her head.

Variations on this initial performance have played out every time we listen to the CD and sometimes other family members are invited to join in the fun "on stage." The one downside is that the library CD had already been well-loved before it got into our hands, with several of the tracks not working. The technical snafus disrupt Miss B's momentum when the tracks sputter, skip, and stop. Unfortunately it also means that she's missing a few key songs, so we may actually have to fork over some cash to buy our own copy so that she can perfect the choreography for every single song and finally hear those mysterious "hidden tracks."

Shape Shifting and Pogo Dancing to Ornette Coleman

During one of her recent listening sessions, DJ B opted to spend some time with Ornette Coleman's "The Shape of Jazz to Come," a CD that she hand-selected from the public library. Right when the music began she exclaimed, "Dance with me!" as she spun around and reached for my hand. She then set her sights on her singing lamb, yelling, "Lamb's coming!"

After opening her Mother Goose book to a page with blue and white squares on it, she told me, "It's a diamond, but it's it a square when I move it that way" while adjusting her head to show me her great understanding of shapes. After issuing a series of instructions to me, she told me, "I have a new dance. It's called the flower spinners." In rare form, she continued with a series of dances, telling me, "This one is called the kangaroo jumper. This one is called the pogo stick." She then swirled, saying, "Ice cream...strawberry shortcake...and spinach and cheese" before leaping through the air.

At this point it was nearly impossible to keep up with Miss B's flurry of both words and activity, but there was talk of butterflies, bugs and princesses, along with more instructions to me.

She then asked, "Do I look big?" When I said "yes," she said, "That's because I am big." She continued, "Read this and you can see...Practice it. Sing along. Do it with your fingers and sing. Sing!!! Say butterfly.... It's called the Butterfly Dancer of the World." With that she sang a bunch of nonsense words and played a few notes on her keyboard before turning the volume down on the CD player. She then calmly sat in a chair "reading" a book aloud, saying, "It says that a monster turned it off. And the CD died." She then said, "OK. I'll turn it back on" and turned the volume back up. Miss B then put a pink plastic chair over her head and yelled, "Help! I'm in jail!"

I'm exhausted just recounting her reaction to Ornette Coleman. I guess that's the power of jazz.

John Cale's Monster Music Sets the Mood for Roasting Marshmallows

John Cale's "Black Acetate" album was one of the CDs that DJ B recently selected from the public library shelves. During a day when we listened to a number of her choices, she put this on, saying, "This sounds like a great monster one. Let's go under the covers." She told me, "It sounds great" as she brushed her lamb blanket. Going along with the theme she added during the first song ("Outta the Bag"), "I heard him say wool! I heard him."

Miss B then sang into her black plastic witch party hat, crooning, "wooooo" like a ghost. As the 2nd track began, she said, "This is a good one. Now go under the covers!"

She continued with some imaginary play, asking, "Do you hear that sound? He got out of his cage. So we've got to hide!" She waved a remote control at me and added, "The monster is about to...He decided to go somewhere else to say 'hi' to his friends. He wake them up. The day after he said 'quack quack'...'wee, wee, wee all the way home...and then he said meow meow."

Then DJ B placed a blanket on the floor and said, "Aren't you ready for some marshmallows?" She lined up a bunch of washclothes and told me to "cut up some quesadilla shells and put them on a stick and make some fire. For real, mama." She added, "I'm pretending they're marshmallows. We're gonna burn them up. Make some fire. OK?" She then leaned on me during a particularly pretty song. As the music got more rocking she turned to me and asked, "Why did he say he's gonna kill him?" And with that, Miss B summed up the many moods of both John Cale and a 4-year-old.

DJ B Gets Married While Listening to Harry Chapin

The other day DJ B asked me to put on some music, so I took the opportunity to try out one of her latest library selections: Harry Chapin's "Greatest Stories Live." I handed the Cinderella dress-clad Miss B the CD case to take a look. She smiled, wiggled her foot, and clapped when the music started.

DJ B pretended to be a bride by donning a white cloth over her head. She walked slowly to the music while carrying a paper plate & ribbon bouquet. After clearing a path in the toy-covered floor, she did some slow dance moves and twirled in her princess shoes. With the veil over her face, she held her bouquet high in the air while kicking up her leg. She then asked me, "Did you have a cape like this on your head?" Miss B then told me, "Well, some people go in cars when they're married."

She trotted, tapped her feet, clicked the heels on her shoes, and when she heard applause on the CD she held up her bouquet. DJ B then pranced backwards and kicked her feet. At this point I was surprised to hear lyrics in the song that said "the day you married me," but I'm not sure Miss B even noticed this coincidence. Instead she continued with the questions, asking, "Did you have real flowers at your wedding?" She swayed to the music with her arms outstretched. She then got irritated by my note taking, saying, "Don't write! I just want you to watch!" She then grabbed my notepad and scribbled, telling me, "That says 'I married dada.'" She followed that up with a drawing of two people getting married (disturbingly, it was Miss B and her dad).

"That's me. That's dada marrying."- DJ B

After her father arrived home, she invited him to dance with her and she continued with her graceful ballet moves while her dad played tambourine.

Today, it's 2 weeks after we first listened to this and I showed DJ B the CD case while the music played and asked her if she remembered what she did to this music. She shyly replied, "got married." Wow. I guess it was memorable.

Anita Mui's Fashion Show Soundtrack Delights DJ B

DJ B is often drawn to library CDs housed in big, DVD-style cases, so I wasn't too surprised when she picked up the Anita Mui "With" CD (accompanied by bonus video CD). The first time she listened to it she immediately asked me to join her, saying, "I wanna dance with you." After a quick turn on the dance floor she adjusted the volume and said, "gimme some snack and TV," before turning it off completely. The second time I attempted to play this, Miss B was in the other room and when she heard the music she screamed, "Be quiet!" and walked in to where I was to turn off the CD, yelling, "I want you to be quiet. I don't like the music on."

Things couldn't have been more different last week when DJ B asked to listen to this CD in her room. As the music began, she smiled and shook her hips. Doing her best "America's Next Top Model" imitation, she pranced across the "cat walk" in her room. She clapped along to the music, laughed, and placed her hands on her hips. She grabbed a skirt from her chair and put it on top of her head like a hat. She then put a ballet skirt over her hands and began flapping her arms with it on.

After her facial expression changed into a strange grin, she began shaking a skirt in the air before putting it in her teeth. She then started pulling clothing out of her bag of dirty laundry, including a nightgown which she held over her face while she danced towards me. She continued layering on various items of clothing and completed the look with sunglasses and ballet slippers. She threw an inflatable space shuttle into the air, tucked a jump rope into her ballet shoes and danced with conviction.

DJ B then propped her sunglasses atop her head and silently sang along to the music with her arms on her chest and a scarf around her neck.

Although I was happy to see that the music by this dearly departed Hong Kong actress inspired Miss B to new levels of performance, I breathed a sigh of relief when she grew bored of the Asian pop-fueled fashion show before she hit the stinkiest part of her dirty clothes pile.

An Audience Gathers for DJ B's Performance to Mozart

Lately it's been challenging to get DJ B to sit down and do her music review duties. So, I was shocked a few days before Christmas when she said, "How about some music?" before picking up the Mozart CD (Sabine Meyer's take on Clarinet Concerto K.622 and Sinfonia concertante K.297b) that she'd selected from the library.

As the music began she brought me a tray full of sequins, saying, "here's some pasta." She then said, "Dance with me! It's feast music." At our feet was a lovely selection of pretend food in preparation for the party. Miss B raced across the room holding a spoon, prancing and spinning around. She asked me to get her tutu, saying, "I have to hurry before the lovely part starts." She danced with a wooden nutcracker, doing dramatic twirls, proclaiming, "I'm a great ballet dancer because I can spin really fast."

Miss B then set up a series of chairs and placed various Christmas ornaments on each chair. After everyone was settled, she told me, "Look...there's a whole audience...the dog, the snowman, and the sheep are watching me."

At the conclusion of her performance she walked up to me, touched my face and said "God bless you. I do that at church."

From feasting, to dancing, to blessing; Mozart inspired the most elaborate performance by Miss B yet. I can hardly wait for her next show.

Swiffering and Irish Dancing to Maria Muldaur

We're getting those pesky hold notices from the library again, as some music-loving patron is jonesing for a fix of a certain CD that's in our possession. Since I have way too much guilt in my life already, I figured I better get DJ B to review Maria Muldaur's "Heart of Mine-Love Songs of Bob Dylan" before we get more intimidating emails from the library.

While we were cleaning the house yesterday, I slipped this CD into the player. It attracted ZERO notice from Miss B. She was much more fixated on cleaning our kitchen floor with a Swiffer. When track 10 came on ("I'll Be Your Baby Tonight") she reacted for the first time, as she bounced briefly through the room. She said, "I know it's dancing music" and then wandered off, collecting ornaments and placing them into a Christmas stocking. After hanging her stocking up she announced, "I'm going to bed" and asked, "Mama. What's in my stocking for Christmas?" and then screamed "Open it!"

She continued with her projects around the house and only reacted again when she heard the beginning of the final song ("You Ain't Goin' Nowhere"). She jumped up yelling, "Mmmmm. Irish dancing!" and then began to do an Irish dance. After a few moments she returned to making Christmas cards, but got to her feet again at the end of the song (when she heard a fiddle) and danced before bowing at the end of the piece.

Latin Pop in DJ B's Jail Garden

The library is about to come after us for overdue CDs, so it's about time to share DJ B's take on Paulina Rubio's album "Ananda," which she so carefully selected from the shelves of the San Francisco Public Library. Do you think it was the hot pink cover art that appealed?

The music elicited smiles from Miss B who began dancing immediately to the Spanish-language pop. She jumped up and down while wearing 2 leotards and ballet shoes and invited her father to join her. Father and daughter shared a dance and then Miss B did a quick solo spin. She danced on her tip toes and shrieked, "I like this one! I'll show you how I dance."

A giddy grin spread over DJ B's face as she enjoyed the music. As the second track began she approached me, patted my knee and said, "I'm gonna stop it for a minute because I like the other one." She stopped the CD, started it up again with the first track, and resumed her happy dancing as she sashayed across the room. She kept repeating track one and would not start dancing until she heard the music, saying, "I have to dance when the music hears my ear."

She treated us to an elaborate performance before propping up the CD, saying, "I want to see it while I'm dancing." She then asked us to set up a curtain over our entertainment center so that she could have her own stage from which to make a grand entrance. After we set up the curtain she asked, "Do you want to see my shadow? This is my garden." After inviting me behind the curtain, she said, "Pretend we're in jail. It's a jail garden."

From there the performance devolved, but it was clear that DJ B found much inspiration in Paulina's Latin pop.

Playing with Rocks More Fun than Listening to R.E.M.

It's always exciting when Miss B selects a CD from the public library from a band that we actually like; so I was very interested to see what she thought of the R.E.M. release "Accelerate." On a day when she wasn't particularly keen on listening to music, I popped this in the player to see what kind of reaction it would get.

Initially DJ B said, "Can I dance with you mom?," although it was clear that she wasn't paying attention to the music. Instead she played with some play-doh that was stuck inside a plastic bottle and asked me to feel it. She then turned her attention to her Cinderella shoes and by the third track (my favorite so far) she announced, "I'm Cinderella." I asked her what she thought of the music and she replied, "not great."

DJ B's Rock Arrangement

Miss B then left the room and returned with some fuzzy pink socks. She tried to get me to guess what was in the socks before spilling a bunch of rocks out of them onto the table. She asked me to feel the rocks and said, "see, that's a princess rock" before asking, "Which rock do you like better?" Miss B then arranged the rocks on a table and as the 6th track began she actually pulled herself away from her rock project to dance for a little bit. Abruptly she stopped the CD and put it away in its case, saying, "I didn't like the music!"

For DJ B today, rocks definitely trump rock.

eVonne Hsu Gets Miss B Dancing Again

Wouldn't you know it, DJ B selected yet another Asian pop release on one of our recent public library jaunts. eVonne Hsu's "Chosen One: '02-'05" is a double CD with a purple spine and no front label art. The back cover has a picture of Hsu, which perhaps caught Miss B's eye. Although she's a star in Taiwan, Evonne actually was born and grew up in Texas and that's where she was apparently discovered.

When we initially played the CD, operatic vocals started everything off, although the music itself was more pop and rock. Miss B said to me, "let's dance together!" before she became fixated on her purple pen and started to draw all over my notebook. Turning from the page she again implored me to dance and then said "dance slowly," while she demonstrated some running moves decked out in her Cinderella dress. She then held her hand up over her eye, as if she was surveying a landscape. The music got a bit more dancy with electronic elements and this caused Miss B to grab a scarf from her dress-up box. Eventually she wrapped up her Cinderella shoes in scarves before waving me off, saying, "go away."

The next time that I tried to play this CD, Miss B screamed, "I want a movie. Not music!" She then stomped to the CD player and turned it off.

Vietnamese Ballads are Baby's Favorite Music

Recently DJ B and I made our first visit to the remodeled main branch of the San Francisco Public Library. It was gorgeous, with a huge children's area and an enviable Audio-Visual room. When Miss B and I entered the AV Room to search for CDs it was like entering a musical mecca. It was a huge room, with CDs on shelves and in record store-like bins. It made the random nature of our CD selection process a bit more challenging, as the sections were divided by genre. Luckily, I didn't realize that until after I had steered Miss B down one particular row; so she selected something out of the first row that we hit. We'll have to go back and explore some more, because after picking one CD, DJ B transitioned into full-on meltdown mode.


So, what did she pick? Tuan Ngoc's "Nhung Tinh Khuc Yeu Cau" release from the Vietnamese section of the library. The first few times that I tried to play this at home, DJ B stopped the CD immediately. Today, however, I placed it in the CD player while she was happily making music with one of her instruments. As the music started, she continued to jump and dance around. She then began some dramatic slow dancing, with leg extensions, twirls, fancy footwork, and grand emotional sways with her eyes closed. The album, full of slow Vietnamese ballads with male vocals inspired her to do slow, measured dance moves.


As she listened, she grabbed her baby doll and rocked her in her arms before dancing while holding the baby. By the third song, DJ B said, "This is baby's favorite music," as she continued to dance. She'd stop occasionally to feed her baby milk. Then she said, "It's your turn to dance, mommy. I need to write about it." As I took my place on the "dance floor," Miss B sat down and asked for a piece of paper so that she could write notes. As she jotted down her observations, she asked, "What are these dances from? I think they're from New York." She then started to play with brightly colored tissue paper, placing it on the floor and then dancing while waving 2 hot pink pieces. Suddenly she stopped the CD, saying "no music" and removed it from the player. She handed the CD to me and said, "I didn't like it." She could have fooled me. Miss B then got on the floor, saying, "I have to snuggle in my little patch" and curled up on top of her tissue paper nest.

Despite what she said, I think DJ B dug this CD. How can you really go wrong with this suave Vietnamese superstar? I can hardly wait to return to the main branch of the library to find more Asian pop gems.

DJ B Doesn't Subscribe to the Gospel of Campbell Brothers

Although DJ B personally selected the CD "Can You Feel it?" by Campbell Brothers from the public library, ever since bringing it home she has shown zero interest in listening to it. As we plowed through her backlog of reviews recently, I popped this sacred steel gospel CD into the player to see what she thought of it.

As the music began, Miss B, with pen in hand, jotted down some notes (imitating me, no doubt). She said, "It's starting now" and then danced for a little bit before stopping the CD. When I asked her what she thought of the music (that she'd been listening to for less than a minute), she replied, "It was good" with no emotion. I put the CD back in the player and again Miss B started to dance. She shook a pen while dancing, using it to point at things in the room. She stopped the music again, saying, "I thinked of it. I need to write Easy Ride. I love Easy Ride."

For her, the winning CD of the day was her old favorite "Easy Ride," a live Canto Pop CD that's intense and dramatic (with songs that stick in your head for months). Nothing compared and nothing elicited the same energetic response as that well-worn library staple. So much for this really cool-sounding sacred steel release.

Sometimes Miss B Doesn't Like Pianos that are Big and Blue

On a recent rainy day I was determined to get some feedback from DJ B about her growing stack of CDs from both the public library and from her Record Store Day spree. She was a reluctant participant and didn't give the music as much of a chance as I would have liked.

On this marathon day of listening, the 8th CD that I had Miss B preview was the Smithsonian Folkways collection "Classic Piano Blues." When I showed her the CD case, she said, "I don't love pianos. I don't think if I like it...Sometimes I don't like pianos that are big and blue..." As the music started she said, "I play it" and began scribbling in the notebook where I had been jotting down her reactions to the music. Then, exasperated, she sighed and said, "Alright. I'll play my piano." She smiled, sat down at her toy piano and played along with the music. She looked up, saying, "I don't have a blue one" before adding, "And I'll jump!" She then started to jump and dance to the music before turning it off after less than one track.

Cocteau Twins Disappoint the Resident Lullaby Connoisseur

Once again, I'm having to strongly encourage DJ B to get caught up on her music reviews. She's just not sympathetic to the fact that I keep getting insisitent emails from the public library, reminding us about all of the overdue CDs in our possession.

So, today, on a rainy day, I coerced my strong-willed 3-year-old to make her way through our pile of CDs and offer up her opinions.

First up, I asked her to revisit the Cocteau Twins' CD "Lullabies to Violaine: Volume 2." I have to admit that when she selected CDs from the library, I spotted this release. I love the Cocteau Twins and hadn't heard this particular album (a collection of singles, B-sides etc. from late in their career), so checked it out. When Miss B was a baby we had another Cocteau Twins album on regular rotation in her room, so I figured she might dig this one too.

Well, the first time I played this CD Miss B was busy with other projects. Eventually she looked up from her work and started smiling and dancing to the track "Pink Orange Red." She then turned to me, saying, "I'm going to turn off the music because I want my truck to beep. This is lullabies. I don't like this lullabies." When I asked her why, she said, "Because. It's too noisy." She then took out the CD. Who would ever have guessed that the ethereal, atmospheric sounds of this 4AD staple could be considered noisy?

Today we tried listening again and DJ B said, "It doesn't sound like my other lullabies," before turning down the volume. She then turned it off completely, saying, "I wanna try the other one" (meaning the accompanying CD). She then got angry, telling me, "I don't like it. I don't want it" and asked me to get HER lullaby CD from her room.

Unfortunately, for Miss B, her expectations were dashed. When she heard that the CD was "Lullabies," she assumed that it would be just like her one of her beloved lullaby CDs that are a nightly bedtime ritual for her. The beautiful sounds of Cocteau Twins just couldn't compete.

Butterfly Dancing to Colbie Caillat

I managed to convince DJ B to select some new CDs from the public library, so indeed there is still life left in this project! The first album to catch her attention when we got home was Colbie Caillat's CD "Coco." I had never heard of this artist, but from the opening notes I felt like I was in an episode of "The Hills" (my only barometer for mainstream pop hits). And, indeed, this must be a popular CD, as it's one of the few that we've checked out that's had a "hold" placed on it by another library patron, meaning that we can't renew it. (Yep, apparently she's a MySpace sensation with her acoustic/soul/folk stylings.)

When we played the CD, Miss B smiled at the cover, then lifted her leg like a ballerina doing an arabesque and then began doing leaps across the room. She continued to dance and grabbed a pink blanket as a prop, which she waved, spun, and dragged while galloping to and fro. She then invited me to join her, saying, "It's your turn to dance with me. Stand up. Now it's your turn to do Aurora dance." Miss B demanded that I dance with her and said, "Close your eyes." She danced on her tip toes, did some slow maneuvers, and then channeled a butterfly, saying, "You're the green butterfly and I'm the pink butterfly. Put your wings out. C'mon little butterfly." At this point we both were dancing with blankets (aka wings). Miss B nuzzled a bit with me, flapped her arms as if in flight, then turned down the volume, saying, "It's time to go to bed butterfly. It's time to go to bed little buddy. Little butterfly is getting tired."

For DJ B, this was satisfying music for butterfly dancing. And that's high praise from a 3-year-old.

DJ B Says No to Taiwan TV

It's important to remember that DJ B hand-selected each of the items reviewed on this blog from the library, so she was initially intrigued by something that she saw on each and every CD that's been part of this project. Yet, what happens after we get home with the CD varies tremendously. As she's grown weary of this project, it's become more and more difficult to get her to allow me to play any of these CDs for her.

Sweet Relationship OST (a soundtrack CD for a Taiwan TV show of the same name) looks like a DVD, as it's housed in a long box. I think Miss B was disappointed that it wasn't actually a DVD because every time I put it in the CD player she takes it out immediately. Yesterday she said, "I don't want you to listen to music right now. It's not music time."

Well, OK.