Wishful thinking.

My alarm goes off at 6am.  It's set to our local university's radio station, which is a religious school so it plays inspirational music as well as religious talks given by church leaders.  I woke to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's rendition of, "When You Wish Upon a Star."

First of all, I kind of laugh when the Choir sings those kinds of songs (think, He's Got the Whole World in His Hands, and you'll know what I mean), and at the same time they sound so cheery I can't help but enjoy myself.  I guess I'm bunched with all the old folks listening,--who treasure their Lawrence Welk like I do my cookie dough--smiling and nodding their heads when the choir sings those happy songs.

In fact, the music stayed with me to the point that my children woke to back rubs and my groggy rendition of "When You Wish Upon a Star," repeated over and over again until their eyes opened.  Lincoln asked two or three times, "Will you PLEASE STOP singing that?"  Hah!  So I sashayed over to Annie's room, knowing SHE would appreciate my song (she's still young enough that she's happy when she first wakes up).  After a few seconds of singing, she smiled with her eyes closed and that was reward enough for me.  

American Idol, here I come.