I know it’s pretty natural for a parent to boast a bit about their child’s accomplishments, and maybe see signs of greatness in small, rather commonplace things.
However, I am about to indulge in a little wonderment, cus I couldn’t hardly believe something Sierra did yesterday, just as casually as could be.
If you’ve never seen the film ‘Ratatouille’ by Pixar, it’s a pretty entertaining use of a couple hours. We saw this film in the theater, and since then we’ve seen it twice on movie channels. My daughter may have additionally watched parts of it at a friend’s house.
Yesterday, she was downstairs watching hip-hop videos on YouTube in my room, and I was upstairs, sort of reading, and sort of watching Ratatouille again on t.v. My daughter came to the bottom of the stairs to call up a question, and she went, “Oh! You’re watching Ratatouille!”
I’m going to show you the clip that was playing here in a moment. At the time she called up, none of the characters were talking. It was kind of cool that she derived the movie from the score, but not like- amazing or anything. It’s pretty distinctive.
She went on to say what the action was, with pauses- kind of like punctuation in the clip. I was like- “Cool.” on the first one, but then- my eyes got really wide. She described stuff like, ‘He almost got flamed by the oven.’ ‘The guy shut the window.’ I started to prompt her at that point. “What now?” “Luigi hates the soup.” And then she didn’t talk for a bit. I think, like so often happens with kids, my getting involved made her promptly lose interest, so she ended with, “Now he’s looking at the mouse.” and then went back to her videos.
Understand, there is hardly any dialogue in the whole scene, just music and a few sounds that might give hints. I bounded down the stairs, just to check- wondering if somehow she had Ratatouille playing on the computer, or what. Nope, just hip-hop. “What mom?”
You try. Watch this clip, starting from where the mouse falls through the window.
Could you do that? Try it with your eyes closed. I knew she had really good pitch, and tends to be sensitive to loud sounds. Both me and my brother are auditory types, too- but I couldn’t do that. I rely on dialogue for that kind of thing.
It just struck me as kind of amazing.
My tongue is scaling the north face of your neck
and we’re glaring like warriors;
but I’ve a feeling you won’t look at me that way
in the morning.
Cus lately, you seem less sure of this thing,
you’re like Bambi on ice
and there’s something in the flash of your arms
a certain longing.
Kick the can. I can’t see you now behind the
temper and ire.
Mr Wolf knows what time it is
he says, “It’s dinner time.”
I don’t know what you’re carrying
or how your heart is wired
but there’s a dangerous ticking-
I’ll cut the red one…
No, the blue one…
I’ll cut the red one. I’ll cut the blue one. Raking over the embers
and what I’ll come acros..
Raking over the embers
and what I’ll come across..
Is that you? Combing your hair?
And is that me? Eating an egg?
And I’ll be there.
Are we there?
Are we there?
Like John-Boy said
my tongue is scaling the north face of your neck
and we’re glaring like warriors
but I’ve a feeling you’ve won’t look at me that way
(a feeling you won’t look at me that way)
a feeling you won’t look at me that way
in the morning.
Is this how it goes?
Are these the final throes?