My Sunday column

My daughter — who has already informed me she wants to be a “rock star” when she grows up — debuted on the local stage this week.
She got her career off to a rousing start on Friday morning, joining a host of kids from the First Presbyterian Child Development Center for its annual Christmas program.
Before a semi-packed house, Rowan got her first taste of stardom, belting out yule time standards like “Christmas Deo,” “Jingle Bells” and “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” all of which she has been practicing non-stop at home for weeks.
We also heard “Away in a Manger,” “Twinkle Twinkle” and “Zip a De Do Dah Christmas.”
The only thing missing was “Freebird.”
The performance went smoothly at first — of course the crew of the Titanic probably thought the same things as they dogpaddled in the icy North Atlantic.
The 4-year-olds came in first and got the show off to a good start. Their version of “Santa’s Coming” absolutely rocked!
The 3-year-olds entered next and my Blessed Little One looked a little uneasy until she found mom and dad’s smiling faces in the the sea of smiling parental faces.
Relaxed, she joined her choir mates and slid smoothly into “Tiny Jesus,” giving it a little Billie Holliday slinkiness mixed with Ella Fitzgerald’s playful phrasing.
“Christ-mas Deo” was next and the magic continued even after they brought in the 2-year-olds — always an adventure.
The concert was moving along smoother than Tony Bennett at the Paladium right up until the very end when My Angelic Child inexplicably got it in her head that her parents didn’t love her anymore and were going to sell her to the cruel owner of a Congolese coal mine.
Cue the crying.
Anyone who tells you “there’s no crying in show business” is profoundly mistaken my friend.
My future “rock star” cut loose. Just like Diana Ross at the end of “Lady Sings the Blues.”
Fortunately the singing portion of the show was over and mom and dad were quickly able to reunite with their Darling Baby Girl and explain to her that Yes we did still love her and NO she wasn’t going to have to ride around in a wagon with gypsies and get eaten by a werewolf.
Sweetiepie calmed down — and so did Mom — but not before extorting a visit to her favorite cousin’s house out of us first.
The kid is an operator.
I don’t know what this means for her budding career as the next Hannah Montana. Being a rock star has its upside — if I had an an extra few million a year coming in I could get my yard raked — but there’s a downside too.
Rowan certainly seemed to enjoy the singing part of her debut.
Mister Jackie did a great job getting her and all the other songbirds prepared.
But maybe the life of a rocker isn’t in her blood. Maybe music will only be a hobby, not a career?
Which means we look at career plan No. 2 — Indian Princess.
Yup, she told me she wants to be an Indian Princess — whatever that entails these days.
And a mermaid.
And a ballerina.
And a chef.
And a doctor.
And a basketball player.
And a firefighter.
All of which are cool with mom and dad.
(Especially the basketball player).