Mary Black Sheep

No one in my family can carry a tune, and my 3-year-old Luke is no exception.

Not only can he not sing well, but he also can’t remember the words to songs. This may be because we are such terrible singers that we don’t torment him by singing to him–at least not very often.

I do sing to him at night occasionally, if he’s antsy and not settling down. I sometimes sing your typical lullabies, but other times I make up lyrics about the Winnie the Pooh characters.

Once upon a time in the Hundred Acre Wood,
Pooh, he went on a walk.
He was hunting for honey, and as he looked,
he began to talk.

He said, I know I’m a bear with very little brain,
but I know what to do.
I know that bees will lead me to honey.
They’ll give me a clue.

I’m gonna looks for bees up in the trees,
until I see a hive.
And then I’ll climb up to those bees,
and, with my hand, I’ll dive
for honey, for honey. I will dive for honey.
I’ll fight with those bees up in the trees, so I can have some honey.

After I finish my song, Luke will say it’s his turn, and he’ll sing a tune made up of various others. His latest was “Mary Black Sheep,” a combination of “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and “Baa Baa Black Sheep.”

He sang:

Mary Black Sheep.
Mary Black Sheep.
Mary Black Sheep.

Then he stopped and asked, “Is that good?”

“Oh, very good,” I said. “Very good.”

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