Bedtime Stories and Serenades

In college, a few friends wanted to hear me read Harry Potter to them in French one night.  So, I grabbed my book and started reading.  After only a couple or few minutes into it, they all agreed that, while they didn’t understand anything but the names in the story, they still loved it.  Why?  Because they found my voice and reading style to be so comforting.  They said that it was the perfect kind of bedtime story, and so asked me to keep reading.

Within ten minutes, the room had fallen asleep peacefully.

Thus began my days as a bedtime story-reader for others.
And, until last night, that was the extent of my aiding others to fall asleep.

Last night, however, as I was humming some song quietly, getting into my bed at our hotel, a friend asked me, and in a somewhat odd way, if I could sing the opening song to Beauty and the Beast.  After a few moments’ thought, I began the song.

I left out a handful of lines somewhere in the middle, of course, as it isn’t one of my top-known songs, but I made it through most of the song with ease.  When I finished, I thought that I would be going to sleep.  Naturally, since I’m telling this story, that was not the case.

Thirty to forty-five minutes later, I finally dozed off, as the requests had slowly ended with my roommates falling asleep.  I had gone through songs from Mulan, Pocahontas,The  Little Mermaid, and still other Disney musicals in my seemingly endless list of requests.  I felt like, perhaps, it would be a good thing for me to join in the princess parties a couple of my friends do, because I found myself really enjoying this Disney singing.  I wasn’t sure if my roommates particularly liked the singing, or if they just thought it was fun and silly, but I obliged, because I liked music and singing well enough to keep singing at each request, and I was too exhausted to evaluate the situation more clearly.

When hanging out in the room the next day, however, I discovered the answer to my unasked question of their enjoyment at my singing.  One of my roommates specifically mentioned that she has to have my singing again at bedtime tonight.


‘Yes!  It was so good, and so soothing.  It was just what I needed for going to bed.’

Wow.  Well, okay, then.  I’d be happy to oblige again!

Then, as I was later in coming back than my roommates, I got a slew of text messages, wondering when I would be back to our room.  When I walked in the room, they instantly started expressing relief at my arrival, ‘because we were so worried – we thought we might not get your singing tonight.’

As I’m thinking about all of this right now, I recall two other recent occasions of my singing for people on the phone.  Talking to a girlfriend one night, she wanted to shower quickly, but we didn’t want to bother with hanging up and calling back.  So I said I would just sing to her while she showered.  So, I did, and we both loved it and the silliness of it.

A day or so later, a guy friend called me on his way home from a late dinner and drinks.  When he arrived home, he contemplated a shower, but said that would be too difficult, and besides, he would have to get off the phone for that.  To which I replied with the incident with my girlfriend in which she showered and I sang, for those same reasons.  Not as a suggestion, but simply a factual statement of options for showering while remaining on the phone with someone.  He decided against the shower nonetheless, but requested a song anyway, declaring it unfair that I would sing for another friend and not for him, so I had to sing for him in order to be fair amongst my friends.  Okay, okay.  So, I sang.  And what happened?  He fell asleep.  Completely passed out.  πŸ˜›

So, I suppose that was actually the first time I sang someone to sleep.  However, last night and tonight were the first occasions of my having someone request for me to sing him/her to sleep.  πŸ˜›

Anyway, … I know all of that must be a mess, because I’m exhausted and in my phone, but I’m just going to leave it for now.  Perhaps I’ll fix it when I’m back home Tuesday.  Perhaps not.  πŸ˜›
Post-a-day 2017


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