Never Smile at a Crocodile

I took the Littles to the Zoo yesterday, and apart from the really sad penguins that looked like they were just waiting for death, in their tiny little dirty enclosure, it was very lovely. (My daughter and I are writing a strongly worded letter)

We arrived at the crocodiles and the Eldest started singing this song. “Remember Mom? You always sang us this one?!” It’s true. I’m the kind of person that breaks out into song, at the slightest connection of an event that matches with lyrics and a tune.

One morning, after dropping the older children off at school, the Littlest and I were making our way home, 25 mph style. We kept seeing townsfolk. “Look!”  Littlest said in his tiny voice. “Theys Mista Gene, my hayocutter!” and then I pointed out Mr. Blaine, the man who runs the deli, and is responsible for keeping my family fed at least 50% of the time.
We kept going on like that, and so of course, I started singing…
♫These are the people in my neighborhood♫ from Sesame Street.

Until recently, I think the older 2 thought I made up all these songs. I’m enjoying one last go around as my 5-yr-old looks at me as though I’m the smartest lady on the block. Of course, I really have to watch the show tunes when around the older and cooler offspring. It seems to physically hurt them.

It stems from my Preschool teaching days. I figured out early on, when I started singing, it seemed to stop those little stinkers in their tracks. There could be one putting paint in another’s hair, and still others running around INSIDE with OUTSIDE voices; complete bedlam and more chaos than Christmas morning. I would start singing, and like zombies stumble-tripping toward brains, those tiny people would stop and come sit at my feet.

Not even kidding.

Sometimes it wasn’t even a real song. I made them up all the time. I still do, when I help my friend Sherri out at her Awesometastic Preschool that my children attended.

Anything sounds better when sung: ♫ I love clean up time, and if you do it I’ll give you a dime, oh, look at Miss Lisa…how silly she is, she didn’t mean dimes, she meant LIMES..la la la♫

I don’t want to brag, but they think I’m a rock star. If preschoolers could carry dangerous fire devices, they would be holding up their little cigarette lighters and swaying to my musical outbursts and making the I LOVE YOU sign.  I seriously love it. I get very silly, and have even been known to pull a fake faint. Because I could barely handle all the applause.

Little kids are the best.

And someday, when my littlest kid starts rolling his eyes at my antics, and is on to my song-stealing, it does my heart good to know, at Miss Sherri’s, she always has a group of little people, just waiting to be my groupies.