‘Tis early practice…

“Those who wish to sing always find a song”

~ Swedish proverb

The son enjoys singing a lot. And that’s fine by me. Actually, it’s more than fine. I am really pleased. He also composes own little songs. And that’s where it gets weird. Not that you get me wrong: they are usually pretty catchy tunes. It’s the lyrics that are… a tiny bit strange. The catchy tune however usually tempts you to once in a while strike up one of his songs yourself…

“Poo-poo-potage, poo-poo-potage…”, the husband sings while he is emptying the dish washer. The son comes and joins him. Now they sing the song as a duet.

Poo-poo-potage, poo-poo-potage…

“La-la-la-la-mhpf… la-la-la-la-mhpf!”, the son mumbles jollily, playing Duplo on the living room carpet.

“What are you singing there, dumpling?”, I wonder.

“La-la-la-la-FART! La-la-la-la-FART!”, the son intones with fervor smiling at me.

“Um, well… er…”, I answer. But later on while doing the laundry I catch myself mumbling the same lines…

One of the son’s first non-words that he repeated again and again before he learned to talk was “inimuuna” (at least to our knowledge it doesn’t mean anything). One evening when the husband and I were listening to some music, the song “Inis Mona” by Eluveitie started to play. At the chorus the husband and I both began to sing along:

“I close my eyes, Inimuuna!
And reminisce of those palmy days
I moon o’er you, Inimuuna!
As long as I breathe
I’ll call you my home”

The son seemed pleased with our performance.


“Have you seen my other sock?”, the husband asks from out of our closet.

“A-sock-a-buck-a-clock-a-knock-a-rock-a-…”, I answer reciting the son’s first poem.


I’m sure the son will be going places. At least he has already two fans here at home. 😉



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