We bought Piper a microphone yesterday. It is the final accessory that she desperately needs to complete her Paty Kerry costume for Halloween. Really what’s a rock star without amplification? We gave Piper a lot choices in her microphone selection. She fell for Magic Mic:
Piper’s has a black handle with a shiny silver microphone. It’s for the glamorous fake rockstar variety. It’s kid-powered; no batteries required. And when you sing into Magic Mic-or spit all over it with huffy breaths-as Piper does, your voice sounds like an echo. It’s completely addictive. I’m warning you. If Piper hadn’t already stamped this one owned with her germs, I’d be stealing it after she goes to bed and putting on my own concert. Trust me. You don’t share Magic Mic.
Piper is now speaking to us only through Magic Mic. Every response requires amplification. Even dinner conversations.
“Piper, do you want peppers or carrots?”
“CARRRROTTTSSS!” she echoed.
“Use your napkin. It’s in your lap.”
“Did you clear your plate?”
“I’MMMM GOOOING TOOOOOO!”
Magic Mic adds an element of drama to every response. And we needed a lot more drama around here.