One can expect that when their child learns something new that they thoroughly enjoy, they are going to want to do this new thing all. the. time.
This can be anything from riding a bike, to holding their breath under water, to something as simple as drawing a damn circle. We parents may enjoy it, but there are times it begins to make us panic because water is scary and you can fall off of a bike and DON’T YOU DARE DRAW CIRCLES ON MY WALL, SO HELP ME!
Before Holden was carted off to school- of course we sang nursery rhymes and songs all the
time. I am never NOT singing- as some kind of stupid earworm has constantly taken hold of me, and if I’m going to suffer- everyone else around me is going to as well (insert evil laugh here.) I know the kid learned at school, I’m not questioning that, but I guess what he’s holding onto the most now that it is out for the summer is all of the songs they sang throughout the year.
All of them.
I love to hear him sing, don’t get me wrong. Even if little kids sing horrifically off-key, their little voices are just so damned adorable you can’t help but to find a smile creeping across your face. There is only so much of “Backpack was a Little Bear” that one person can take, though; adorable voice or not. If you do not know the song, DO NOT LOOK IT UP. This isn’t like Blue Waffle or Goatse where the curiosity just gets the better of you and you can’t help but punch it into the Google Search bar, and although you swear your retinas are scarred for life and you may never EVER recover, you eventually get over it. Backpack Bear stays with you. Backpack Bear haunts your dreams. Stay AWAY from Backpack Bear. He is more frightening than the Snuggle bear- and I never thought that shit was possible.
As you can tell- I am very quickly losing my mind, because we aren’t even a week into this whole summer thing and I’m already wanting to stab kiddie song characters.
Even poor, poor Holden seemed to tire of singing the same old songs day after day (read: 5 days in. It’s going to be a LONG few months)- because he has begun to improvise.
Great! Save me from frustrating monotony! No more Backpack Bear! OH HAPPY DAY!
His favorite thing to do other than singing? Rhyming. Like songs, he’s been rhyming for a long ass time(ing. couldn’t help it!)- but I guess this whole school deal taught him how to use real words instead of just rhyming sounds and making up nonsense to make it work. Hooray for education! Kids come up with some funny stuff- maybe this will lead to some amusement during these long and hot days; What could go wrong??
That was when I heard this catchy little tune drifting to my ears from the kitchen, where Holden was putting together a puzzle.
Anything’s better than that mother-badword Backpack Bear, I thought, let me go and wash this from my brain with whatever new kick he is on!
And so I mosey on into the room and that was when the lyrics of this little diddy became clear
“You’re a fleabag and a d-bag, and a fleabag and a d-bag. Fleabag fleabag d-bag d-bag!”
Wait, WHAT? Did I just step into an episode of Jersey Shore??
I know he certainly didn’t learn the term “d-bag” from anyone in this house. When I wanna call someone a d-bag, I say DOUCHEBAG. I’m not big on the abreves, if YKWIM (you know what I mean. Ugh. You do now if you didn’t before)- so the only thing to blame is rhyming. What rhymes with fleabag (which as much as I love old school Disney movies, I’m pretty sure they are the culprit for that lovely word)? mebag? Shebag? Peebag? D-bag just kind of rolls off the tongue better than the other options.
In the grand scheme of horrible things that have the potential to spill from sweet little baby mouths (and don’t try to tell me he’s not a baby!)- I know this is not all that bad- but once you start rhyming, it’s like crack, and it only goes down from here.
Don’t you REMEMBER the ways we skewered Mrs. Mary Mac growing up?
Next thing you know, he’ll be sitting on the curb downing a 6-pack of pixie sticks spewing rhymes like “sick dick lick prick” and “fuck a duck, suck a duck!”
Doesn’t matter if he knows what he’s saying or not- it’s only a matter of time!
It’s not my foul mouth that will lead this child down the path to pottymouth- it’s rhyming. Rhyming is a gateway drug and it must be stopped!
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.