Growing up, I was a huge fan of Shel Silverstein. I read, re-read and recited tons of his poems from A Light in the Attic and Where The Sidewalk Ends. In fact, I got a role in my very first play in 4th grade by reciting “‘I will not go to school today,’ said little Peggy Ann McKay. I have the measles and the mumps! A gash, a rash and purple bumps!”

I bought both volumes of poems for Owen and River for Christmas and we’ve been delightedly reading them aloud before bed ever since. They seemed really into them for awhile, despite some of the drawings being WAY CREEPIER than I ever remember and some of the poems being downright horrifying. (Sorry we read “For Sale”, you guys! That poem where the weird screaming guy tries to sell his kid! I WILL GIVE YOU MONEY TO TALK ABOUT THIS IN THERAPY IN 20 YEARS! MY BAD!)

However, none of the poems can compare to what the twins are really obsessed with: another Shel Silverstein book that I had never before read. It was another Christmas present from someone else and they show no sign of ever putting it down. They demand it at bedtime every single Saturday and lately, we’ve been taking turns reading it aloud as the twins can read the whole thing and then some. But also because by now, we’ve all got it memorized.

I wouldn’t really classify the book as a kids’ book. I mean, the meat of it goes completely over their heads. (Like a ‘for kids but really for adults’ Pixar movie, I suppose.) In fact, the first time we read it, I almost cried. I found it so incredibly sad.

The book is about a circle that is missing a piece. He goes off in search of his missing piece and does all kinds of things until he finds it—he passes a beetle, a butterfly lands on him, etc. and as he goes along, he sings a song about how he is looking for his missing piece.

Toward the middle of the book, he meets various pieces but they do not fit. They are too big or too small or they don’t want to be his missing piece. THEN! OH JOY! He FINDS HIS MISSING PIECE! And you think the book is going to end happily!

SPOILER ALERT:

It doesn’t. Well. It does, I suppose. Just not in the way you expect.

He realizes that with his missing piece, he cannot be himself. He can’t sing his song, he can’t talk to the beetle or the butterfly, he can’t do anything he did before. So at the end, he gently sets down his missing piece and goes on his way.

THANKS, SHEL SILVERSTEIN.

FOR SHATTERING ALL OF OUR DREAMS.

I have heard there is a follow-up to this book called “The Missing Piece Meets The Big O” so maybe something is resolved but I haven’t yet read it and let’s be honest: it sounds like a porno.

THAT IS NOT THE POINT OF THIS BLOG ENTRY.

The point is that I love the book so so so much, way more than I did the first time I read it. It really resonates with me, someone who often feels like I am missing a piece but who is also reluctant to give up some of herself to find that piece. I still wonder if it is possible to still be me AND have a missing piece.

But that is neither here nor there.

What I really want to share with you is that when the song comes up in the book:

Oh, I’m lookin’ for my missin’ piece
I’m lookin’ for my missin’ piece
Hi-dee-ho, here I go
Lookin’ for my missin’ piece…

Owen and River belt out a tune that is just UNREAL, singing it with a very particular melody that they made up. It never ever changes. And I often find myself humming it randomly throughout the day because OH, it is pretty catchy. (Those twins are musical GENIUSES.)

I’ve been thinking about the fact that the twins’ interest in singing this song and reading this book will eventually wane. They will attach themselves to something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT as kids are wont to do. (Maybe so mething like Pokemon and that will cause my insides to spontaneously combust and I will die.) And oh, I will be so sad when they are no longer on my lap screaming out the lyrics to MY MISSIN’ PIECE with raw emotion and artistry.

And so, on Saturday, I attempted to capture it on video so that it would be preserved for all time.

My favorite thing about the song is Owen’s commitment to it. This rendition is particularly soulful as he croons his missing piece song like a singer-songwriter on a stool with his guitar. I especially love his attention to detail. Namely, his observation that ‘looking’ and ‘missing’ do not have ‘g’s and he abbreviates them appropriately. WITH FEELING.

I present to you now, Owen reading the first few pages of Shel Silverstein’s “The Missing Piece” which of course, includes him singing an evocative rendition of the Missing Piece Song.

You are welcome in advance. HAND THIS BOY A GRAMMY.

Lookin’ For My Missin’ Piece from The Spectrum on Vimeo.