Singing A Little Diddy Doo

I am not sure if it is an occupational hazard or a genetic condition, but I sing all the time. This isn’t like ¾ of the local junior high school suffering from “Beiber Fever” singing the chorus to “Oh Baby, Baby, Baby,” although is a part of my repertoire.


I can’t even say I restrict myself to normal kid songs and nursery rhymes. We are far beyond “I’ve been working on the railroad.” Even if I were to stick to only kids songs, I know about 5 million. Want to sing a song about ducks? Well I know FOUR. Just about DUCKS! This may be helpful some day in some situation, although I am hard pressed to think of one.
Oh-no-sir-ey! I feel compelled to make up MY OWN SONGS. “I told to you to sit down and eat, sit down and eat, sit down and eat. I told you to sit down and eat, or you won’t get any cook-kiiies.” I would say this is a sanity saving measure to help me cope with the fact that I say the same thing over and over and over again. There is only so many times you can say, whisper, yell, grunt, mumble or sign “because I said so” before you start to think that maybe you should try it in French, Spanish and German because they just aren’t getting it.

This whole la-di-da-de-day thing might be acceptable if I had a singing voice. Let me paint the picture for you of what would happen if I were to audition on American Idol (it is unkind to point out that I am beyond the age limit). Randy would give the classic Randy-jaw-drop-bug-eye look. The camera pans to J-Lo who is scrunching up her nose like she saw someone wearing colored, tapered jeans. And Steven Tyler would say, “I thought you were going to be like blahhhhh (Steven Tyler scream), but instead you were like blahhhh and all I can think is blahhhhh.” You know you’re not good if Steven can find only 3 opportunities, per sentence, to give his famous donkey-got-run-over-by-a-reindeer sound.

At least my kids like it. They ASK me to sing songs to them. Then again, it isn't really like they have other song-singing alternatives. The only benefit I have found to this condition is that I can grocery shop, while singing my grocery list to myself, at the S. Pennsylvania Meijer and no one tries to mess with me.