Monday, January 10, 2005
Of course, my choice of lullabies has always been eclectic. The Smiths, "Cemetry Gates;" Billy Bragg, "A New England;" Billy Idol, "Dancin' With Myself" (with new lyrics to make it "Dancin' With Celeste"); Johnny Cash, "Folsom Prison Blues;" "16 Tons;" "Joe Hill;" or something, along with nonsense tunes that play with Celeste's name ("Celeste ... ial Seasonings is a tea that mommy drinks; Celeste ... ial mechanicals explains the motion of the stars; Celeste ... ial navigation requires an astrolabe; usw.") or that work in the phrase "fais-do-do."
Evelin is fond of the Sandra Boyton CDs, but I can never remember the words ...
Of course, the worst part of the singing is when you find yourself humming "Never Smile at a Crocodile" or, even worse, "The Wheels on the Bus" during the workday.
I made the mistake the other day of asking a particularly rude little boy on my bus to be "courteous, kind and forgiving, gentle and peaceful each day" and now have been stuck on that for long stretches.
© 2003–2010 T. Carter Ross