I am kind of a music snob. I admit it. I’m not happy with a song unless there are at least 2 time changes and 3 unidentifiable instruments. Still and all, I’ve always played in cover bands, so I know all the “hits”. I even like a good deal of them.
Nothing could prepare me for the ridiculous songs I am singing to my baby. Of course, I change the words to suit the mood, mostly having to do with feeding. They talk about baby brain, I think the music sector of my brain is starting to suffer.
Terrible Song #1: “That’s What Boobs are For” (to the tune of “That’s What Friends are For”) … “Keep sucking, and sucking, knowing you and always count on me…. for sure… that’s what boobs are for.”
Terrible Song #2: “These Boobs Were Made for Sucking” sung to Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Were Made for Walking”. Now this one starts out great, but goes downhill fast. “These boobs were made for sucking, and that’s just what they’ll do. (Here’s where it gets all crazy) “One of these days these boobs are going to suck all over you.” (Actually, this rings true at this point, but that’s a story for another blog!)
Terrible Song #3: “Relax, don’t chew it, you just have to suck through it.” Frankie would be proud.
Terrible Song #4: Justin Bieber’s “Baby Baby Baby- WAH!” (we sing this one while changing diapers. He always cries so pathetically.)
Terrible Song #5: Of my terrible song parodies, I think this one is my favorite. Patrick is a little squeaky thing! So among calling him things like Squeaker and Squeaky Fromme, I’ve been singing The Who’s “Squeezebox” like this: “Mama’s got a squeak-box she wears on her chest, and when the daddy comes home he never gets no rest. ‘Cause he’s squeaking all night, and the music’s alright. Mama’s got a squeak-box, daddy never sleeps at night!”
Of course, my husband’s in on the act. Actually, I think he thought of the Beiber song, but he also likes to sing, “It’s Feeding Time” instead of “It’s Closing Time.” He goes into all these lyrics about eating food and pooping in diapers. It’s pretty awesome.
So last night, I thought, “I can do better.” So Patrick and I had a little King Crimson session (only the soft sweet songs- none of the stuff of nightmares material). He loved it. Wide eyed, looking at mama, taking it in. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lws6LpUy29c