Daddy: "Here Izzy."
Izzy: "What?"
Daddy: "Here, do you want this?"
Izzy: "What is it?"
Daddy: "Pink dog crap. It's red licorice, do you want it or not?"
Izzy: "Oh, no thanks. I don't like those."
Daddy: "You don't like red licorice?"
Izzy: "Not really, no."
Daddy: "OK, I'll give it to your brother."
Izzy: "One wouldn't kill me, though."
I am so glad that my progeny is becoming just that, my progeny. I remember making up many songs as a kid. Hell, I still do it. In Bee Eater we always knew a song was going to be popular by how quickly we could make up new lyrics for it. I am glad that Isobel has the ability and shows no signs of stopping.
I thought of providing a translation for this little ditty but sometimes it's just better for songs to remain in their original form, unaltered and relatively undamaged by dodgy interpretations. So the listener (or reader in this case) can glean whatever meaning they choose from it. So here then, is Isobel's latest soul stirring masterpiece
CLOSR
all I want to know is can you come a lid bit cloosr.
hercoms the breret befor
we eet a lit bit
closre he coms the
her coms the rolsh
befor we tolch
comat lid te bid
the doors are open
the wind is relly blowine
the niet sky in
ocaeine over then
it's not just eot
Fisicl I won't tock for
macke it all so criticlill
So let's malcke thies
Fisael I won't tret you
Like yourr all so tibicl
a a oi a a oi oi
I'm telling you, the kid is going places. Mark my words, if Isobel can finally figure out spelling and that writing somebody else's songs is marginally illegal, she is going to the toppermost of the poppermost (shameless Beatles plagiarism)
Isobel has been on a big zombie kick for the last little while. Really since Halloween, since her success as a zombie cheerleader. For the past couple of weeks though, she has really been zombie crazy...and I love it. We are connecting on a Father-Daughter level that extends far beyond the reaches of normal coolness. If she starts to like the Marx Brothers I may plotz...bagpipes and her liking them might be pushing the boundaries a tad.
So I was told about an app that will turn a photo of you into an flesh eating, moaning, undead sumbitch. Naturally I told Izzy about. Naturally she went crazy for it. She brought home a zombie book from school and was disappointed that it didn't have enough pictures of zombies like on T.V. and the movies.
"It's all guys in white paint and drawings, there's no cool make up." she said.
"Those are real voodoo zombies." I said.
"Those are all real boring." she replied.
I had a look at the book, it was pretty boring stuff. Who gives a damn about how zombies are made using the dessicated remains of a puffer fish? Not Izzy. Not when there are real make-up zombies all over the world eating and tearing flesh and happily munching away on their own next door neighbours.
I had hoped to find a calmed down version of a zombie film for her but Fido just wasn't her speed. She isn't quite ready for Zombieland just yet. I got the Walking Dead compendium comic for Krimble and figured that might hold her off for a while.
"Are you sure she should be reading this?" asked Mrs. Narrator.
"There's nothing really bad in it." I said.
"Except the F bomb on the first page she turned to."
'Goddamn,' I thought. 'That's right she can read now.'
"Tell her to just look at the pictures." I said trying desperately to remember whether there was nudity in the book or not.
She got bored of that quickly too and went back to the zombie app.
Bedtime came and off she went to draw pictures of zombies. She had been upstairs for twenty minutes or so when I heard her get out of bed and bolt toward the stairs. She came down to me, nearly in hysterics.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"There...there..."
I couldn't make out the rest.
"What's the matter?"
"There's a spider in my bed!" she said and burst into full on soggy tears.
After a little searching the offending spider was sent toward lake Ontario on a toilet paper raft and many hugs and kisses were given to calm nerves and assuage tears. There were a lot of things, Fathery type things, that I could have said to her about spiders being harmless but I didn't think it would matter too much. I also thought about telling her that if she became a zombie, she would probably be covered in spiders and hoards of other bugs...but sometimes you just need to keep your mouth shut and wipe away the tears.
No comments:
Post a Comment