My Daughter, The Songwriter.
Lately, Sarah's taken, as many 3-year-olds do, to composing little songs about herself and her feelings/surroundings/etc.
Naturally, it is my intent to set down some of these for 1) posterity; 2) embarrassing the hell out of her in about *gazes at watch* 12 years.
Sarah's Hybrid Holiday Carols (she only changed the first lines):
Oh Santa Claus, oh Santa Claus,
Come light the menorah...
Oh Christmas, Christmas, Christmas,
I made you out of clay...
And my current personal favorite, one she made up Wednesday morning while we were out walking and sadly, probably forgotten by her immediately afterwards (inspired by airplane smoke trails in the clouds, which she insisted were made by a "rocketship"):
Little, little rocketship,
He is a little boy
Him and his mommy
Fly through the sky!
In other news, Sarah has a birthday party to go to tomorrow. And one Sunday. And then another one next Sunday. Holy shit! This kid has gotten more invitations to parties in two weeks than I did all through high school.
Naturally, it is my intent to set down some of these for 1) posterity; 2) embarrassing the hell out of her in about *gazes at watch* 12 years.
Sarah's Hybrid Holiday Carols (she only changed the first lines):
Oh Santa Claus, oh Santa Claus,
Come light the menorah...
Oh Christmas, Christmas, Christmas,
I made you out of clay...
And my current personal favorite, one she made up Wednesday morning while we were out walking and sadly, probably forgotten by her immediately afterwards (inspired by airplane smoke trails in the clouds, which she insisted were made by a "rocketship"):
Little, little rocketship,
He is a little boy
Him and his mommy
Fly through the sky!
In other news, Sarah has a birthday party to go to tomorrow. And one Sunday. And then another one next Sunday. Holy shit! This kid has gotten more invitations to parties in two weeks than I did all through high school.