Wednesday, January 28, 2004

Willow's Bellows

Tonight for the last fifteen minutes of supper in the school dining hall, while she waited for us to stop making small talk with friends and co-residents Sarah and Alex and their own shy little one Jack, our darling wee one, now a big girl at eighteen months, sung a corrupted version of "This Old Man". For fifteen minutes. At the top of her lungs. Without ever making it to the second verse. And, if you listened carefully, you could tell that this particular man wasn't old, but naked, and quite possibly a pedophile. As in:

Naked man, he played one, knick knack knick knack on my tum...

Puts give the dog a bone into a whole new context, doesn't it?

Preemptively, in the car on the way back from the student dining hall, I tried getting her through the old man's shoe, knee, and other sundries. She seemed to be getting it right, or so I thought. Then, just as the old man began playing five, I realized the voice from the back seat had begun singing something else entirely:

Tree my mice,
Tee my mice,
Tee my mites,
Tea nigh my,
Me my mice,
See my mice,
Me my my,
Me me my,
My my my,
Tee my my,
Tails.

Language play and the observation thereof has been so much fun, especially when there's so much gusto involved. But we always knew at some point it'd stop being so cute. It's times like this I can see that horizon.

posted by boyhowdy | 7:08 PM |

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