As a one-time choir dork (and current “Gleek”), singing is a pretty major part of my life. Imagine my joy, then, when little L started “singing” along to Hawaiian music while we were playing in her room this morning.

Granted, she wasn’t singing with words—the girl’s vocabulary is limited at this point and she can’t actually talk. (Beside, I’m not sure she’ll ever speak Hawaiian.)

She was, however, belting out the word “Aaaaaah.” In tune. And sort of on rhythm.

This development opens up all sorts of possibilities. Should I pepper her with some Brahms contatas next? Perhaps the Berlioz requiem? Maybe I should bring her into the modern era, and teach her to sing some Alicia Keys. She also could become the youngest human ever to memorize the melody to Springsteen’s “Born to Run.”

However we play this whole singing thing, one thing is certain: The girl truly loves music. All of those mornings during her first month spent listening to Mozart and Martin Sexton appear to have paid off. Now, thankfully, the three of us get to reap the benefits.