and I’m the dad.

May 15, 2013 | 2:14pm

If you have followed this blog for any period of time, you know my kids improvise songs quite regularly, especially when they are alone. Especially on the toilet. And especially quite loudly. I haven’t been writing down the lyrics as much as I’d like, but here is the latest set from Beth, age 4:

Rayco the pet acorn,
He’s my cute pet acorn,
He came down from the leaves
To be with me, me, meeeeee!
Every number has a name.
Every number has a dream.
If they don’t be careful,
They’re going to drown in the pool.
Sherpa wool, sherpa wool,
Is different from the snow.
Sherpa wool, sherpa wool,
Is the same color as the snow.
Sherpa wool, sherpa wool,
Is different from the snow.
Snow falls from the sky,
Sherpa wool doesn’t.
Sherpa wool, sherpa wool, SHERPA WOOOOOOL!
Bird beaks go to meat meat,
And then they toot toot toot.
I just came up to get a brush,
And nosy where to there?
I just came up to get a brush,
And nosy where to there!
(repeat 50x)
Sun strings, sun strings,
Shine through everythings,
It’s really weird that the sun is hot
And I don’t understand it but
The sun is as bright as me!

Various past lyrics:

From Beth: 1, 2, and this Thanksgiving thing.
From Luke: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9.
Also this.

I should probably compile all these into one page, eh?

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December 13, 2012 | 8:30am

Songs of the Boy, Part 8

More lines from Luke’s improvised singing:

Welcome to the Buttcheek Rodeo / Hang on and watch out!
Polly ain’t getting a waffle from Daddy today!
A billion barnacle buckteeth can’t be wrong.
Once when I was a child / There was poop on the ceiling.

Past lyrics from Luke: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7.

For songs from Beth, see 1, 2, and this Thanksgiving thing.

Also, inexplicably, this.

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October 22, 2012 | 8:15am

"I’m a little teapot,
short and stout.
If I were a robot,
you’d be dead."

— Beth, age 4

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Filed under: poetry song teapot kids children singing quote oneliner child dads poem sing fathers parents

June 11, 2012 | 8:54am

Black-ish

Luke:	[age 7, listening to music] "Is the person singing a white person? Or are they black? Or black-ish?"
Me:	"Black-ish? What's that mean?"
Luke:	"You know. A white person trying to sound black."

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Filed under: black race white racial music singer singing sing kids boys child children childhood parents parenting parenthood fathers fathering fatherhood dads

May 30, 2012 | 8:51am

Songs of the Boy, Part 5

For previously noted songs of Luke, age 7, see parts 1, 2, 3, and 4 (or this from Beth).

Frying pans, frying pans, and I ain’t afraid to use them. / They just don’t feel the way they used to anymore.
The Easter bunny is fictitious, fictitious, da da dada dum. / But bunny ears are still fun to play with.
The smell of my own butt / is better to me than roses / better to me than donuts / but not better than Dad’s pizza.
I’m staring out the window / and everybody’s staring back. / I think they know I’m naked / and I’m about to do a dance.

And here’s one with hand motions. As you sing, you are supposed to draw the outline (or make the motion) of that line’s subject in the air with your hands:

Form the cow / form, form the cow.
Form the cow / form, form the cow.

Milk the cow / milk, milk the cow.
Milk the cow / milk, milk the cow.

Form the cheese / form, form the cheese.
Form the cheese / form, form the cheese.

Cut the cheese / cut, cut the cheese —

At this point, you interrupt the song with an enormous farting sound. Yes, the whole thing is a joke made to end on that as the punchline.

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April 20, 2012 | 8:40am

Yee-haw!

Both my kids sing and talk to themselves while sitting in the toilet. Just now, as they are each in separate bathrooms — which are several rooms apart, and with the doors shut — they both shouted “Yee-Haw!” at exactly the same time.