It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Lyrics are challenging things

Heard here. Today. All of them.

Emily manages the occasional lyrical mangling, generally pretty entertaining. “Hit the ground, Jack, and never come back no more, no more, no more, no more…”

Or this one (from before the holiday): “Hark a herald angel sings, ‘Glory be! A new-born king.’ ” (One hears an echo of the south in this Canadian girl… who has never ventured further in that direction than Albany. New York.)

Entertaining as those may be, it is Tyler who is the Undisputed King of Mangled Lyrics.

“Winkle, winkle, little star…”

Okay, not too far-fetched, but hang on, it gets better…

“The more we get a-gether, a-gether, a-gether, the more we get a-gether, the fatter we’ll be…” I don’t know about your holiday feasting, but that’s pretty true of the state of the waistlines around here…

But the piece de la resistance, the cream of the crop, the ultimate in lyric-warping…

“Don’t worry, pee happy, every little thing, got a penis right…”

Bob would be so proud.

January 4, 2011 Posted by | Emily, the things they say!, Tyler | , , , | 2 Comments

Circle Time

We sing a lot of songs around here. Few of them follow the usual script. My current favourite?

“I’m a little smelly skunk. Sleeping under someone’s dump.”


January 29, 2010 Posted by | daycare, eeewww, the cuteness! | , , , | 2 Comments

Don’t ride their bus

busWe sing as we walk, these days. The tots are really enjoying our circle times. Little Noah in particular will raid the instrument bin and approach with a bell or a shaker or a tambourine. “We sing now?”

Our favourite is “The Wheels on the Bus” (though “My Father is a Garbageman”) runs a close second. Those who can’t sing do their best approximation of the actions, giving certain passers-by the distinct impression that they’ve just received the one-finger salute (or that exceedingly rude Italian forearm thing) from a beaming child in a pair of My Little Pony overalls.

Those who can sing give their best approximation of… singing. Nissa’s version contains only repeated recitations of her favourite lines. “UP an’ down! UP an’ down! UP an’ down!”

Emily and William can manage everything: words, melody (kindasorta), rhythm, and actions. Noah and Tyler offer intermittent words/’melody’ and enthusiastic gestures.

Sometimes, though, we run out of verses before we get where we’re going. Being toddlers, staunch defenders of TRADITION, they’re always willing — very willing! MORE than willing!! — to repeat a verse over and over and over and over… or indeed, in Nissa’s case, a single line…

Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over…

But sometimes, even the most OCD traditional child wants to shake things up a bit. On the way home from the park yesterday, Tyler, surveying the river (the swans are still in it; wonder when they’ll be gathering them up for the winter?), starts a NEW, ORIGINAL verse.

“The water on the bus…” And then stops. WHAT does the water on the bus DO, anyway? Four-year-old William has an idea. “Goes sploosh, sploosh, sploosh!” (Or, in William-talk: “Goes wooof, wooof, wooof.”

Oh, THAT was fun!

From there it’s a scramble for new things on the bus. Trees grow, grow, grow. Swans swim, swim, swim. Clouds fly, fly, fly.

And then, because William is four, after all… The fart on the bus goes stink, stink, stink.

AAAAAAAAAAAA! Hysteria sets in. What ELSE can be on the bus? Snot? Pee? Barf?

Tyler is the man with the ideas again. “Diapers!” Ever-encouraging of the children’s creativity, I launch into the verse.

“The diapers on the bus go…”? And stop, with an enquiring look at the eager purveyors of ooze and stench.

“Stink, stink, stink!” Tyler giggles.

“No, not stink. The farts already did that.” William wants variety. One is beginning to feel some compassion for the potential riders on this horrendous bus.

They cogitate for a few steps.

“I know!” William is excited again, and bursts into tuneless song. “The diapers on the bus go, Poo, Poo, Poo!”

“Poo! Poo! Poo!” This is going to join Nissa’s small pantheon of Best Verses.

“Poo! Poo! Poo!” Noah’s shriek of laughter is accompanied by a mini-squat, his wee butt stuck out.


All over town…

October 21, 2009 Posted by | eeewww, outings, potty tales | , , , | 8 Comments


christmas47angelHark the hair-wuld angels sing,
Glory to the new-born king!
Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!
Joyful all ye nice ones eyes
Joy all triumph of the skies,
WIIIITH thangelic horse proclaim
Cry is born a beth-lay-hame.

“Isn’t that a beautiful song, Timmy? It’s a baby Jesus song.”

“It’s a very beautiful song, Anna.”

“I know.”

December 12, 2008 Posted by | Anna, Christmas, music | , , , | 6 Comments