Sing a Song of Spending

One thing I’ve noticed during my infancy as a parent is that babies like singing. From their perspective, it’s quite simple. The person with the big arms that insists on holding me is speaking to me in a manner far more melodic than usual. And since it’s been weeks since I’ve had Mom’s inner heartbeat to help me drop a beat, I’m going to shut and up and listen to what they have to say.

That’s pretty much it.

Now singing to your baby can come in one of two forms. The first is the planned recital. The Planned Recital method means you have selected the repertoire you are about to perform, measuring it carefully for pitch, range, tempo, and lyrical content, and you expect your selection to have a certain desired effect on your audience: pacification. My choice rendition: The River, by Garth Brooks.

However, the second form is far more unpredictable, and therefore, way more fun. This is when you begin a sentence in talkspeak and for an inexplicable reason, it morphs into singing. For no reason, you’ve added a melody to completely words that just a second ago sounded rather declarative. The pitch goes up and down, but the lyrical content remains remarkably boring. But who cares?

She’s buying it.

Yes, some song that has the musical quality of impromptu tune Will Ferrell sings to James Caan in Elf is actually keeping your baby at bay. Who cares if it’s a list of spices you’re reading out of the pantry. It’s WORKING. And just like that, anything you can think of can be nominated for a Grammy.

Now this is a revelation that I’m sure every parent comes up with at some point, which leads me to my point. Do you know the nursery rhyme “Hush Little Baby”? Of course you do. It’s the one where the overly materialistic parents try and buy their way out of a baby hissy fit. My theory is this: that nursery rhyme, which has been passed down for generations, is just some villager peasant parent looking around and naming things he sees. And somehow, this random tune (clearly from the latter of the two forms mentioned above) has been embedded in the Great American Songbook.

Don’t believe me? Let’s review the lyrics.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word // Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird”
Ok, I’d start an ad-hoc song with “hush little baby,” too. After all, that’s probably why you’ve opted to sing in the first place. But there seems to be a transitional lyric that got left on the cutting room floor. Because rather than it coming off as “if you’re a good child and do what you told, I’m going to buy you something nice,” it comes off as “no, I don’t care if you think a mockingbird is a completely irresponsible thing to buy a baby, you’re getting one and you’re going to like it.” Wow.

“If that mockin'bird don't sing // Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring”
This is a simple case of parent explaining to child the definition of “defective goods.” Look, Dad, you bought a lemon of a songbird. Take it back to the store and get a new one. What’s that? You didn’t get the new pet warranty? You must feel foolish. And your kid is still screaming. What’re you going to get her next? Of course, a diamond ring! Nothing says panicked parenting like going from new bird to new bling in 2.3 tears. I’m speechless.

“If that diamond ring turns brass // Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass”
I’m assuming that it’s the gold band on the ring that’s gone brass, as opposed to the highly valuable stone. Because if the latter’s the case, congratulations. You’re kid has the gift of alchemy! Quick, ask her nicely to turn that jar of mayonnaise into a stack of hundred dollar bills.

“If that looking glass gets broke // Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat”
A looking glass is a terrible present. She probably threw it on the floor when you weren’t looking. As for the goat – this is proof that this song was conjured up by a peasant wandering his farm. Hey, doofus. Puppies are way cuter.

“If that billy goat don't pull, // Papa's gonna buy you a cart and mule”
You know how some parents insist that their children become doctors or police officers because that particular occupation has been in their family for generations? Upgrading baby’s first pet from a stubborn goat to a stubborn donkey is pretty much like handing the kid a pitchfork and pointing in the direction of the barn. And since you blew all your cash on the diamond ring, you couldn’t afford the mule that sounds like Eddie Murphy.

“If that cart and mule turn over // Papa's gonna buy you a dog named Rover”
Turn over? What could a baby possibly do to upend another animals and the four-wheeled transport vehicle it is strapped to? Forget alchemy. Your baby is telekinetic. And I don’t mean to lyrical nitpick, but what if Baby Magneto made that cart and mule vanish? Would you have bought a dog that’s Spanish?

“If that dog named Rover won't bark // Papa's gonna buy you a horse and cart.”
Yep. If there’s one thing that a baby needs more than one cart, it’s two carts.

“If that Horse and Cart fall down // Then you'll be the sweetest little baby in town”
And you’ll also be the most spoiled, too. Now go take a nap while I go to the bank and take out a second mortgage on the house.