Vienna, in a Tricycle

For four months now, we have been playing The Sound of Music every single day. Gianna and Sam, my 21-month-old niece, wouldn’t have it any other way. They “Do Ye Mi” along with Maria, and say their goodnights “So Long Faywell” style. Thanks to Maria and the Reverend Mother, naptimes and bedtimes are relatively tantrum-free.

Of late my two-year-old has taken a fancy to Captain Von Trapp. At the precise moment when the captain would throw the door wide open on an unsuspecting Maria, Gianna would gush: “Kagwapo Captain Von Tyapp.” She must have heard the line from her nanny, so I usually let it pass. Besides, I’m not about to launch into a panic attack just yet. I answer her never-ending whys instead: why are the “mothers” singing, why did Maria bring her guitar, why are the children marching, why is Captain Von Trapp going to Vienna.

The other day, backpack in tow, she went to say bye-bye to Excruciatingly Thin Sister.

“Why, where are you going?” the sister asked.
“Going to Vienna,” Gianna answered.
“What will you do there?”
“See Captain Von Tyapp.”
“And how will you get there?”
“With Mama, in a tricycle. Papa will drive.”

Isn’t it sweet how uncomplicated kids think? To them, the distance is nothing. In her mind, Gianna has already made plans to go places. She will take the tricycle to Vienna, fly to New York in an “autocopter”, take the bus to Salzburg, sail the Pacific Ocean in Tito Jeric’s ship, board Cebu Pacific to Paranaque.

I tell her these trips take time, and she tells me it’s okay. We’ll go to the grocery first to buy Promil Kid, and then we’ll go. And oh, let’s not forget Lolo, Lola, Tita Nani, Sam, Pusa, Ate and The Sound of Music.