I bet you didn’t know I was a lyricist, too, did ya?

My dad LOVES music and passed that love unto me. I grew up listening to the local oldies radio station in the car; it played songs from the 50s and 60s. We didn’t get the best radio reception inside, so when my dad cleaned the house, he would sing his favorite songs, a cappella.  The thing is, he never remembered all the words. That didn’t stop him, though; he just made up words to fill in the blanks. It was quite entertaining to the rest of us!

I kicked it up a notch.  I break out into song quite frequently in this house.  I use the tunes from songs I know and like, but make up words on the spot that apply to whatever situation we’re in.  For example, this morning I needed a glass to get a drink.  I saw the dishwasher was full of clean dishes so I grabbed one from there instead of the cupboard.  You should always grab from a clean dishwasher instead of a cupboard or drawer; the one who’s job it is to empty the dishwasher will be mighty appreciative.  That job belongs to B in our house.

So I said called to him, “B, the dishwasher needs to be emptied!  I just took a glass out of it, so there’s one less item to empty.”  DING!  The lightbulb instantly went off in the lyric part of my brain (that happens to me several times every single day).  “One less item to empty” = “one less problem without ‘cha”.  I went to the other room where B was, got in between him and the TV and started singing Ariana Grande’s Problem, the part in the chorus where the guy is whispering:  “You got one less item to empty.  You got one less item to empty.  You got one less item to empty.  You got one less in the dish-waaaaaaasher.”  I crack myself UP!

And that, dear readers, is one of my secrets to making chores and lessons fun in this house.  I’ve been making up lyrics about anything and everything for decades, but I didn’t start doing it on a daily basis until I became a mom.  My mom’s favorite is one I made up to Frère Jacques during B’s first year.  My version went like this:

Are you pooping?
Are you pooping?
I think I smell something.
I think I hear something.
(Stick my tongue out with my lips tightly around it and blow 3, short times, like a fart noise.)
(Stick my tongue out with my lips tightly around it and blow 3, short times, like a fart noise.)

Twelve years later, and I can still crack my mom up with that one!

So B’s not only grown up listening to my lyrics, but also making his own.  He gets better every year, so it was no surprise when he decided he wanted to take a songwriting class next semester.  Proud mama!  On the last day of class, all the kids have the option to preform their creation and I know my attention-loving son is going to do his.  I don’t know if parents are aloud in the class that day or not, but I will be in there.  And I’ll be recording.  😀

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