Alex has been going to his nursery, Mother Goose, for almost four years now. As he has become more verbal, he’s brought nursery rhymes and songs home with him. Sometimes they’re the standard ones – “Baa baa black sheep” and suchlike. Sometimes, they’re not.<\/p>\n
His favourites right now are “Heyyy, baby…I want to know-ow-ow….will you be my girl?” and “Jadda”, which is a string of nonsense syllables I can’t reproduce, but which does NOT finish “bing bop pop.” (I think it should and add it in when he sings that, to his massive indignation.)<\/p>\n
He brought home another verse to “Row, row, row your boat” the other month. I understand that it’s become common, but I had never heard it before:<\/p>\n
Row, row, row your boat Now, this is the sort of thing that gets me going on inventing my own doggerel. I quickly added another verse:<\/p>\n Row, row, row your boat He loves it. He’s tried to convince Goose that it’s an official verse, with about as much success as he had sellng this rewrite I did of Hey Diddle Diddle<\/em>:<\/p>\n Hey Diddle Dat I can’t wait to see him try to get them to accept my latest offering, invented last night with Fiona in my arms:<\/p>\n Rockabye baby, in your mom’s lap And yes, I know I am messing with my descendents unto the tenth generation with this stuff. But it’s so much fun<\/strong>!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Alex has been going to his nursery, Mother Goose, for almost four years now. As he has become more verbal, he’s brought nursery rhymes and songs home with him. Sometimes they’re the standard ones – “Baa baa black sheep” and suchlike. Sometimes, they’re not. His favourites right now are “Heyyy, baby…I want to know-ow-ow….will you … Continue reading Doggerel<\/span>
\nGently down the stream
\nIf you see a crocodile
\nDon’t forget to scream
\nAAAAAGH<\/em><\/p>\n
\nGently down the stream
\nIf you see a hippo there
\nFeed it some ice cream
\n(slurp)<\/em><\/p>\n
\nThe fiddle and the cat
\nThe moon slid under the cow
\nThe little dog cried ’cause he was sad
\nAnd the dish and the spoon said, “What now?”<\/em><\/p>\n
\nWhen the wind blows, your arms go flap flap
\nWhen the bough breaks, it’s a good thing you fly
\nSince otherwise you’ll fall, and then you would cry<\/em><\/p>\n