my kingdom for some meaning

I've taken to singing. All the effing time.

I have songs about burps (they're nasty); nappy changes (they're awesome); boredom grizzles; the fear of sleeping; the necessity of sleeping; the insidious and all-too-easily-missed-or-mistaken nature of weariness; socks that won't stay on; the loveliness of whichever drink bottle, chandelier or featureless wall she currently finds fascinating — you name it, I've probably sung about it. An awful lot of my songs are, lately, to the tune of "If you're happy and you know it…"

I am so. utterly. sick. of myself.

4 thoughts on “my kingdom for some meaning

  1. Toby and I have been singing made-up, random, quasi-tuneless songs for as long as we've known each other. It's only now the Smallrus is here that we actually have an excuse.

    1. Ha! Now that you mention it, the pterosaur and I have always done the same. So I guess it's the monotony of the subject matter that is perhaps the real culprit. How many odes to bodily functions can you really stand before your brain breaks? (Or perhaps its the "if you're happy and you know it" tune that's truly doing my head in. Worst earworm ever.)

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