Not Fit For a Princess In Training

We did a little of this today:

And by “this”, I mean that we left the house at 9:00 am and didn’t get back until 5:30 pm. It was a full day of salty sea air, sunshine, and sand. Except for the 3 minutes where Sweetgirl went missing on a very crowded beach and I about lost my lunch at the one minute mark of the search (she was looking for “your umbrella, mama, and I couldn’t find it.”), it was a pretty great beach day.

Now, one would think that on the drive back home these two Sweetchildren of mine, and the two friends we had with us, would be wiped out.  One would be flat-out wrong.  After a day of fun in the sun, this is the conversation that took place in the car:

Sweetgirl:  “Bum Burp Bum Burp Bum Bum Burp”  (Sung to some I-Don’t-Have-A-Clue-What-Kind-Of-Tune.  Followed by squeals of laughter from the 2 nine-year old boys as well as the other little girl in the car.)

Mama:  “Sweetgirl, those aren’t words fit for a Lady.  Especially a lady in training to be a princess.”

Sweetboy:  “But they are if she’s a lady in ‘potty training’ mama, right?”

Oh, dear.  Yes indeed child.  Most unfortunately, yes, indeed.

Same Song, Different Words

Have you ever spontaneously made up new words to a favorite song?  I must admit something.  We do this all the time around here.  And I do mean All The Time.  This tradition goes way back to when Sweet Man and I were dating.  One over-long car ride at the beginning of our relationship, I got a little punchy.  It must have been around Christmas because I broke into a rendition of “Silver Bells” the likes of which NO ONE has ever heard before.  I shocked even myself with how many words I was able to come up with that rhyme with “bells” and that rendition lasted 25 exits along the Interstate!  I called it poetic license. Sweet Man called it my version of loony tunes. No wonder he fell in love with me, huh?

Now I’m beginning to believe that we’ve seriously hindered our children from ever fully being able to appreciate the music industry and the hard work that goes in to coming up with lyrics, creating arrangements, and even to songs sung in tune and on pitch.  You see, we subject every song known to man, woman, or child to a “rewording” around here; whenever it suits our needs. And, we aren’t particular about which genre the song is from, or which era, or who the original artist was/is.  In fact, my children didn’t realize that there really was a “Brush Your Teeth” song until some poor unsuspecting mama played the original version by Raffi one day in her car while driving my kids home.   She received a chorus of “Hey, that’s our mama’s toothbrush song!”.  And when they got home?  They were amazed that someone else had come up with something so similar to “your brush your teeth song, mama!”.  Then there is the Blue’s Clues “Time to Get the Mail” song.  And don’t even get me started on the explanation I had to give Sweetboy the first time he heard Eddie Murphy’s “My Girl Like to Party All the Time” on the radio! You see, desperate times call for desperate measures.  He was still not even remotely potty trained by 4.  So, we put that song to new words.  Something along the lines of “Our boy likes to potty all the time…”. Or something exactly like that.  Poetic license people; poetic license!  Or desperation. How about both?

Now, you parents, aunties, uncles, and grandparents out there? I’m fairly certain that you’re going to get this.  And if you’re not any of those yet?    You will.  Oh, you so will.  It’ll be the same songs, just different words.  Mark mine!