A New Song

I cut outside playtime short today to rush inside to write this. If you all get as big a kick out of it as I did, it was worth losing some playtime today.

All four of my kids like to play outside. There's dirt to dig in, grass to pull and throw in the air, and weed flowers to make bouquets with. Lately the big girls have been playing tag/freeze tag with each other, but that gets old after the first tag so they've been asking me to play with them. Gabriella runs around the yard tagging the fence and trees while Abigail and Elise chase me all over the yard and get chased. Caleb just sits in his exersaucer watching the events. I like to imagine he's the commentator for the match broadcasting live to other babies' houses.

After a bout of "Scream and Chase Papi" we each got our baskets (mine is yellow) and played Trick or Treat. Sitting down at the picnic table to admire our "haul" (sticks, dirt clumps, flowers), the girls decided it was time to practice song leading. Abigail went first. She grabbed her stick baton and ordered me to sing. I sang "Jesus Loves Me". That was acceptable to her and she sat down as Elise took the podium. She tapped her baton on the table to call attention and ordered me to sing. I sang "Jesus Loves the Little Children" to her liking, but she demanded an encore performance of "the tiger song." Being unfamiliar with that particular song, I asked her to sing it for me. What came next was so funny I couldn't help but laugh out loud. She sang:

(to the tune of "Jesus Loves the Little Children" as much as possible)

Jesus loves the little tigers,

all the tigers of the world.

Then the tigers eat the kids

and the kids run and scream,

"Ahh! The tiger is eating me!"

Then Jesus talks to the tigers.

All the tigers of the world.

And the tigers say they're sorry

for eating all the children.

And Jesus says, "That's ok, little tigers.

They were just the bad kids anyway."

A short rant

I've been told that I'm "old" now. I don't feel old, but I guess since you think I am I'll go ahead and get some things off my chest. That is what old people do, isn't it?

1) It is your responsibility to teach your children how to dress. Shame on you for letting little Tiffany leave the house wearing a skirt that's shorter than most people's underwear and a shirt that could use about another yard of fabric. Double shame on you for believing the lie that, "There aren't any suitable clothes for girls these days and this is all I could find" thus sending the message to the "designers" that it's ok produce skimpier and skimpier clothes.

2) Fathers, teach your sons. There's a shortage of manly men and it is our job as fathers to fix this. Note that "manly" does not equal "violent". There's enough violence. We need to groom men who are polite, helpful, easy tempered, and articulate while at the same time willing to get dirty and problem solve through experience. Teach Johnny how to build a fire in the back yard with a 9V battery and some steel wool and then teach him how to cook biscuits on that fire. Don't think cooking is masculine? Watch the miniseries Lonesome Dove for an example of men baking bread and tell me they're sissies (they fight Indians and drive cattle too).

3) If you're privileged enough to draw a living wage, be responsible. No matter if you work for the city and collect garbage or are the president of a major corporation - show up when you're supposed to and don't whine about it. Remember, you have this job because you applied for it. That means that you asked to work for these people and do this job. Don't act like you're a prisoner and your boss hunted you and forced you to come work so that he'd have someone to give money to. You wanted the job, now do the work for which you're getting paid. Play on the weekends and during your time off and stop whining like a little girl that you have a job and people need the services which you provide. This goes for parents who stay at home too. Suck it up and shut your mouth. You get to be the one to raise your children instead of taking the easy way out and paying someone else to raise your kids at daycare. Good for you! Your reward is coming.

There. I think I've said enough. Now turn down that music and get off my lawn.