They're fun, aren't they?
So I'm sitting off in the cinema with my three year old, watching Frozen. The sing along version.
The only difference between this and the original is the karaoke style words at the bottom of the screen.
Oh. And it's a fiver more expensive than normal screenings.
Communal singing is evocative at the best of times.
But imagine a cinema full of under 10s, all unselfconsciously belting out the sound track to their short lives.
It was something else.
And when 'Let It Go' started, two girls no older than six, both dressed in identical Elsa dresses, pushed passed their mums and, drawn like moths to light, ran towards the screen.
They were not only singing, but miming all the actions. Throwing their imaginary cloaks off. Fashioning themselves a dress of ice. Stamping their feet as they built a majestic ice castle.
It was then that I realised that, two days after having a few festive drinks, I still hadn't shaken off the hangover.
I was crying.
Like literally blubbing my face off as I watched two children I didn't know reenact a film I've seen at least 50 times.
And then I turned to my daughter. And she was singing with her eyes closed.
That finished me off.
I was having a shoulder-shaking beal, totally overwhelmed by how wonderful it was to see children as yet unaffected by embarrassment. Or judgement. Who were having the absolute time of their lives singing to their favourite songs.
And I thought that I should make a New Years resolution to join a choir.
Be inspired by these brilliant little people who take such joy in just singing their hearts out.
Either that or I should stop drinking Sambuca on a school night.