When I was child my a-mom made me sing “Getting To Know You” from the musical The King And I every time someone new came over. This was made even more traumatic by dressing me in a little fake kimono. It made it more authentic, she said. I suppose she figured that Japan was a whole lot closer to Thailand than Missouri, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I don’t really want to know what was behind her reasoning on that.
I’m thinking about that experience today because my first natural family reunion is approaching. It’s a bit scary. I fear that I may revert back to my grade school self and spontaneously break into show tunes. That would be bad. It would only take a few seconds of “Seventy-Six Trombones” to derail future relationships.
If I can overcome one of the very unique ways that adoption has scarred me, and don’t break into song, I’m not sure what to do. Part of me would love to lay low and just observe. Just watch them, see what they look like, how they move, hear their voices. But I have a feeling I won’t get much of a chance to do that. People are going to ask me who I am. Ugh. I’m not looking forward to that. I suppose I should have some prepared.
How am I suppose to prepare something like that? What am I supposed to say? And more importantly, can I set it to music?