“Mom, do the wolf!” cries Dean, bracing himself for the adrenaline rush that accompanies fear.
“Bah-na-na-na-NAH-NAH, Nah-nah, nah, nah, NAAAAAH!!” I sing in my most menacing baritone.
It gets ’em every time.
We’re into “Peter and the Wolf” this week. We’ve watch both the Disney version and the new rendition by Susie Templeton and Hugh Welchman (which, by the way, won an academy award for best short film in 2008,) several times. The story is short and sweet, and the music catchy. I wonder if Prokofiev ever imagined a bunch of kids in America would be whistling his tunes almost 100 years later.
Luke bounces around the house singing “Peter’s Song,” which sounds even more melodious than the Philharmonic’s string quartet when sung by a spry, blonde 4 year old. Lately, the Russian’s masterpiece has become the soundtrack of our little humble abode.
At the dinner table I can hear the bird’s music, a high pitched chatty flute.
When I ask them to do their chores, pronto, I hear the duck’s lackadaisical oboe struggling to keep her energy levels up.
Walking to school, I hear the cat’s clarinet padding softly along as we march into the day.
Grandpa’s bassoon is, of course, Paul’s lecturing us about how we might not get our security deposit back, what with how hard these kids are on a house.
Peter’s violins can be heard throughout the house and especially in our backyard on our better days.
And the wolf? Well, I guess there’s a little wolf in all of us. Luckily, we rotate, so as to not show all our fangs at once.
If your racking your brain, trying to remember how the wolf’s music goes, perhaps Scott Farcus can refresh your memory. Click here.