Bea and Penny have formed an Opera Club. Its meetings tend to be impromptu: Bea suddenly meets Penny coming around a corner or Penny trots upstairs to find Bea stretched out on the bedroom floor. Then the singing begins! We have coloratura, we have arpeggios, we have leitmotifs, and—of course—we have diva-histrionics galore.
The other night, even my neighbors were out to hear the Opera Club. Unfortunately, the concert was abruptly cancelled due to artistic differences.
I have suggested to Bea and Penny that perhaps a nice folk music sing-along would be easier to manage than all those arias, but they just glared at me with eyes that knew me for the cretin I am.
“You could try Kum By Ya,” I offered.
“Loser!,” said Bea.
“Boring!,” said Penny.
“That song’s for kittens who are too stupid to sing anything else!,” they both cried.
But later that evening, I caught Bea doing air guitar and singing to herself:
Penny’s breathing, Lord, strike her dead.
Penny’s breathing, Lord, strike her dead…
Hmm, I did ask you how the cats were getting along….
Sounds like they’re extending their vocal range and dabbling in songwriting!