My boys and I were in a silly mood at snuggling time tonight. With my youngest, he and I decided to make up a story about a giant, enormous bald eagle that wanted to be President.
Once upon a time, there was a giant, enormous, really, REALLY big bald Eagle (You could just call him a huge Eagle, Mom. ...What if we call him a huge Bald Eagle, 'cause I really want him to have a white head? ...Okay, so just call him a huge Bald Eagle, Mom. ...Okay.) So, once upon a time, there was a giant, enormous, really, REALLY big, huge Bald Eagle! Who wanted to be President. (Bald Eagles can't be president, Mom. ...Well, that's why we're making it up. And this one really wants to be, okay? Okay.) After all, Bald Eagles are the emblem of America! (Did you know that Bald Eagles are an emblem of America? ....What's an emblem, Mom? ...It means that it represents America. Oh. Okay. Yeah. I knew that.) And he'd seen plenty of shows where the president was standing up talking in front of a huge picture of a bald eagle and figured, "Hey! Why not put a bald eagle in -front-!" (How old is he, buddy? ....80. ...Really? That seems a little old. How about 27? No, Mom. He can't be 27. How about 50? ...He can be 50. That's a pretty good age for a President I guess.) He figured he was well qualified-- he'd seen the requirements: He was definitely of age and even more definitely a natural born citizen! Why, he was as American as the Bald Eagle! ((giggling) Mom! He -is- a bald eagle! ...Well, see? That makes him -especially- qualified to be president then, doesn't it?) So he decided to run for office. (How can an eagle run? It's a bird. ...Well, in this case, 'run' means that he's going to put his paperwork in to try to be president. ....Eagles can't write, Mom. ...Well, this one can, which just -another- reason he's extra super specially qualified, right? ..Okay (giggle) But he needs a name. What's his name, honey? ....Hmmm... Can his name be Sean? ...Oh, absolutely! Sean, the American Bald Eagle!) But first, he needed to raise some money. (What's an eagle going to do with money? ...Well, he needs it so he can pay for publicity and ads so people will know he's running for president. ...Mom....He's an eagle. People are going to -know- he's running for president. ..Good point. Well then how about we just skip right up to his first debate? ...Okay. (giggle) Can we put him in a fancy suit? ...Oh definitely! With a really nice tie and everything! ...And it's gotta have one of those fancy pockets up on his chest, Mom. ...Oh, absolutely! And he's keeping a worm in it. ...A worm? ..Well, yeah. You know, in case he gets hungry and needs a snack. ...Then he can -thousands- of worms in his pocket, Mom! ...Oh, yeah! In fact-- he's got so many, he'll offer them to the voters, because he's such a generous eagle. ...Worms are yucky, Mom. ...How do you know? Have you ever tried one? (This is where he gave me an incredulous look asking me with his eyes if I was really endorsing eating worms. I broke. I started laughing before I could go into my schpeal about how you shouldn't knock something until you tried it.) He then told me about a friend of his that had tried one and thrown up, so we decided to take it on good authority that he was an expert on this subject and that worms were, in face, yucky. So offering the worms, although good hearted is probably not going to win him any votes. How 'bout we skip that part and just move on to his platform? ...Okay....but what's a platform? ..It's the things a politician says they really believe in to try to get you to vote for them.) So Sean, the American Bald Eagle announced, "I believe in family values! And in preservation of our natural resources and national forests! (See? People will really like the first, and maybe he's got a couple of eggs at home. And he's -definitely- going to support the second, since that's where he lives. ...But Mom....Eagles can't talk. ...Oh -sure- they do! It just sounds like this (Insert loud squa-ing sounds here.) Besides, he had an excellent translator. ...What's a translator? ...Well, that's someone who speaks both of the languages, so this one could translate Eagle to English just fine. As well as whale. I'm pretty sure Sean has the whale vote cinched.) And so it came to November and time to vote! (Did he win by a lot or did he win by a little? ...He wins by a -really- lot, Momma!) And it was a -landslide-! Why, those other candidates might as well not have even run! Then January rolled around and it was time for his swearing in! (At this point, I put one arm across my body and raised my other with my elbow resting on the first's hand --- and started squa-ing again. That's when the story dissolved into a whole mess of giggles and my youngest saying, "We sure made up a silly story, Momma!")
With my oldest, at school today, they were doing made up math problems about little boy blue and they learned the story of London Bridge, so he and I started out on a Nursery Rhyme kick. He wanted me to tell him some more of them. So we started with Little Miss Muffet:
Little Miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet, eating her curds and whey (Oh! I know this one, Mom! ...Okay-- then -you- tell it. Okay.)
Little Miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet, eating her curds away. ....Then a spider showed up and it scared her off.
(That's not -exactly- how it goes, bub. It's)
Little Miss Muffet, sat on her tuffet, eating her curds And Whey (it means cottage cheese. ...So why don't they just call it cottage cheese? Because 'cottage cheese' doesn't rhyme with 'away') Along came a spider who sat down beside her and frightened Miss Muffet away (see? How are you going to rhyme away with cottage cheese? It just can't be done. ...Let me think on it, Mom. I'll come up with a way. ..Alright. But while you're thinking, do you want me to tell you another nursery rhyme? ...Yeah! Sure.)
Hickory Dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock, the clock struck one and down he ran, Hickory Dickory dock.
(I think I've heard that one before, Mom. ...It has another version which is a really funny joke. Do you want me to tell you that one? ...Yeah! ...Okay.)
Hickory Dickory dock, three mice ran up the clock. The clock struck one, and the other two got away.
((giggle) I see what you did there, Mom. ...Isn't it funny? ...(giggle) Now I'm seeing the clock use it's things on it's hands like a sword! ..That's pretty good! Maybe it's a grandfather clock with those heavy weights that hang from it and it used one like a cudgel to (and I flick him in the forehead lightly) 'thump' that mouse on the head. He comes back with: Maybe it's like the one in the living room with that swinging thing. ..Oh! You mean the pendulum! ...Yeah! The pendulum-- and it's swinging back and forth and it 'thumps' (and I flick him in the forehead lightly -again-) .... Mom! You gotta quit flicking me in the head! ...Okay! (so I kiss his forhead.) There? See? All better! Want to hear another one? ...Yeah!)
Old Mother Hubbard went to her cupboard to get her poor dog a bone. But when she got there, her cupboard was bare, and so her poor dog had none. (....Why didn't she just go to the store and get more? ...Well, I always guessed it was because she was too poor to-- but it could be that she's too old to drive anymore and they took her license away. ...So why doesn't she feed him something else? ...Well, it says her cupboard was bare, so it sounds like she didn't have anything else to feed it. ...She should cut off one of her fingers and give it to the dog. ...That sounds like a very bad idea. I mean, think about it. There she is, poor, if she can't afford food, she probably doesn't have bandaids-- so now she's poor, hungry, old, still can't drive, and now she's bleeding profusely. Besides-- her job is to open that cupboard-- and without her finger, that just got a lot harder. I think we need a different solution. ...What if she cuts off a foot? ...That's going to make it really hard to hobble around, now isn't it? Besides, what's with all this cutting things off? Don't you figure that's going to -hurt-?!? ...Mom. She's a made up character. It's not going to hurt her. ...Well, that's all fine and good, but I'm not imagining cutting up a poor little old lady to feed her dog. ....Maybe she should eat the dog. Well...there are parts of the world that do that....and she IS really hungry....okay. So she's going to eat really well that night and she's not going to have to worry about feeding her dog anymore. ...Okay!)
And just as we were doing hugs and kisses, he said,
Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet, eating her cottage cheese. When down can a spider who sat down beside her and made little Miss Muffet wheeze! Ha! I -told- you I'd come up with a rhyme for cottage cheese!
Yes you did, sir. Well played (;