On Sunday, I had a baby shower to go to for Brian’s cousin, so we all drove up to the Falls for a visit. It made for a long day for Brian and Norah–cooped up in the house for three or four hours while we were at the shower, and of course Norah was missing her nap, and while I was gone apparently there were several meltdowns, to be relieved only by a cup of milk and some crackers. Just before we were ready to leave, Tom and Linda brought out the much-talked-about, “you might yell but Tom has been looking for this for a long time” present. I know Brian and I were both holding our breath a little, afraid of what it was going to be. Something giant we’d have to find a home for?

But it was a little wooden piano. And from the very minute she saw it, Norah loved it. Tantrums forgotten, she was down on the floor in an instant, banging on the keys. “Buttons,” she said. We explained that they were keys. “Keys. Keys. Keys,” she chanted, fingers on the white and then the black. “Norah, you’re making music! What pretty music!” we cheered her on. “Meeza. Meeza,” she repeated. She was a dervish, all movement and action, banging on the keys, bopping her head, crowing “Meeza. Meeza. Piano,” then turning in a spinning little dance. “Dance. Dance.” It was wonderful. She was beside herself with joy.

Then Brian stretched out on the floor beside her and began picking out the notes to Baa Baa Black Sheep. He didn’t sing along, just pecked the keys. “Baa,” said Norah. “Baa. Sheep.”

We looked at each other, drop-jawed. That’s not a song we really sing to her. If anything, she should have recognized Twinkle Twinkle, which we sing every night and which has the same tune. But she knew. We were amazed. She is certainly her father’s daughter.