Give me the howling cats, mommy!

Espen knew Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah before I told him said composer was gone.

We were riding home after his play group one day, just after Mr. Cohen's passing, when Espen began to hold forth.

"Hallelujahhhhhhhhh, Halleluuuuuuuujaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh, Halleluuuuujah, Halleluuuuuuuuuuujah!"

I was feeling the loss of the great songster pretty keenly and promptly cued up several renditions so Espen could get a full appreciation for how gorgeous the song really is.

The first three covers were soulful, Jeff Buckley-esque variations, which Espen crooned along to, demanding more at the end of each version.

And then.

5 young ladies sat in a simple room with a guitar and some folding chairs. They were. Divas. Baby ones, just itching to let their star shine.

The song started without incident. Just a lovely solo, albeit with a few gratuitous trills and runs. Then came the chorus. It was like listening to an aural rendition of 5 Madonnas in Vogue. Espen and I were completely silent, trying to parse all the audio action coming at us like an atomic song.

Then back to a single voice making a play on Whitney Houston's virtuosity.

I looked back at Espen. He had a confused look on his face.

And then the chorus started again, but this time, the sequel was better than the original. In that the voices were even more decorative and thrilling.

But me, I'm a creature of habit when it comes to my Leonard Cohen and I favor the rawness over the roller coaster vocals. To me, I felt like I was listening to a concert of howling cats.

I pressed stop. Espen questioned me.

"Mama, why did you stop the Hallelujahs?"

"Because they sounded like howling cats."

"Oh."

For whatever reason, he didn't press the issue further, which I took as tacit agreement.

Several days later, we are loaded in the car and ready to launch when Espen has a request.

"Give me the cats, mommy."

"Um. What cats, honey? Mimi?"

"No, mommy! The CATS!!!"

He's saying it like I should be WELL aware of what he is driving at, but for the life of me I'm drawing a blank. Did I promise him a bunch of kittens in a moment of exhaustion? Is there a herd of cats somewhere in our house that I should know about? Nothing.

And then he starts ooohhhhing and ahhhhing and luuuuuuuuuuuuyaaaaaaaaaing...and it dawns.

"Do you want the girls singing Hallelujah?"

"YES! Give me the howling cats, mommy! I want to hear them!"

So this one's for you, howling cats. You're famous to Espen Camino. Long may you wail.