With Mother's Day approaching, I find myself revisiting some of my favorite motherhood memories. My son, who is now twelve, has grown up so much in the last few years. But it seems like only yesterday when he was “My Little Superstar.”
At the tender age of four, my son began having great illusions of grandeur. His fascination with the songs he heard on the radio led him to become a great singer on the stage: the stage of his imagination. I delighted in his performances as I spied on his show through the bedroom door. “My Little Superstar” is a literal recounting of my favorite concert experiences, courtesy of my son.
“My Little Superstar”
By Lynn C. Johnston
He takes the stage and holds the mic
Close up to his lips
He sings of love both lost and found
As he bumps and grinds his hips
But he doesn’t have a record deal
Or albums made of gold
He’s just my singing superstar
Who’s all of five years old
His stage: atop a full size bed
His spot: an old flashlight
He dances in the mirror
As I gleam with such delight
His songs: taped off the radio
And a few he learned from me
He works so hard to learn the words
And tries to sing in key
His costume: that’s the topper
As he belts out to his tape
Superman pajamas,
Complete with feet and cape
He is my little superstar
Who knows where this will go
But for a singing five-year-old
He puts on quite a show
