Tuesday, April 04, 2006

The Dish Ran Away With The Spoon RM Column March 16

I HAVE had a really busy couple of weeks so much so that I have not been able to post this before now, so here you go.

The Dish Ran Away With The Spoon

You would think that nursery rhymes would be a distant memory for a mother who’s baby was last a baby 14 years ago but no.

They have a habit of sometimes in the most unlikely of scenarios popping into your head.

Before you have a child, you may be of the opinion that you do not remember nursery rhymes but when you have a child, they all come back.

I think I had a rhyme or a song for nearly everything. And I have to say I would be hard-pushed to remember them all now.

We would sing ‘hit the road Jack’ when going out, ‘the sun has got his hat on, hip-hip-hip hooray’ when it was sunny, ‘rain, rain go away’ when it was rainy, ‘get up, get up, get out of your lazy bed’ in the morning, though in fairness it was normally herself waking me up.

She could sing all the versus of ‘I’ll tell my ma’ when she was no age, say ‘Iwouvyou’ from under a year old, she was/is so smart.

However over the years these lovely and endearing family habits have been replaced with loud and constant music.

As I write this Kurt Cobain is warbling away, over and over and over again, on the repeat button.

Though in fairness in her much younger music days, it was Boyzone so that is one phase I do not miss at all.

In the midst of this teeny-bop phase she also had her very cool moments, she loved The Prodigy’s Firestarter and Lou Reed’s Perfect Day among others.

It is wonderful, puzzling at times granted, to see her develop her own musical tastes.

While I try not to shout about music, this has become increasingly difficult.

I have succumbed and on more than one occasion to yelling ‘turn that music DOWN’ or ‘if I hear ‘a denial on the Bible’ one more time…’

When you can’t hear the television there is seriously something wrong, never mind there are actually people living all around us who must at times feel like coming up and screaming themselves.

Thankfully that hasn’t happened and part of me reckons it is only a matter of time. I would swear at times that you can hear the music all the way down the road.

And this music is becoming the backdrop of her life at the minute, it’s on all the time, when she goes to bed, gets up, has a shower, whatever the music is blasting.

In addition to the annoyance of listening to some awful white-noise under the guise of music, my own CDs have started to disappear one by one.

They’ll turn up cracked, scratched or they never turn up at all.

And CDs are not the only thing to disappear in our household, spoons are another.

Why is that? What is it about spoons particularly teaspoons that makes them disappear.

Like my wandering CDs sometimes these turn up and sometimes they do not.

If they do turn up, it is likely I have found them under the settee, behind the cooker, on my dresser (nothing to do with me) or more likely and incriminatedly in the Young Wan’s bedroom due to her habit of eating yoghurts on-the-go.

Glasses disappear however the award for most bizarre is the loss of one of my dinnerplates.

I asked her where it was having already asked a number of times and she looked at me blankly with the standard response of ‘dunno’.

Yeah yeah, so the bloody dish apparently ran away with the spoon.

RMMarch16

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2 comments:

Omaniblog said...

I like it. Right now I'm stuck on inventing melodies for "Jack & Jill went up the hill...." and "This old man..." seem to be an enduring favourite.
You are such a softie though: I use to impose Wagner's Ring on my son and walk him up and down to the Valkuries...

Boliath said...

Ha ha I remember you doing rhymes upon rhymes, there were loads and you did all the actions and everything.

Have to say they didn't come to me when the little man was born, still havent probably becasue I never knew them to begin with.

I do sing daft songs to him, but he's bereft of rhymes and obviously so will my grandchildren be unless he procreates with someone whose Ma wasn't so lacking in the rhyme department.