Yesterday
 afternoon I picked up a smiling and happy Robby from school. He chatted
 all the way home, a rarity these days when he typically grabs my cell 
phone and starts playing games as soon as he buckles his seat belt. He 
talked about his friends, their interactions and what they played during
 recess. Only after I pressed him did he reveal what he did 
academically.  
His jovial demeanor continued through 
dinner where he regaled his Daddy with the same stories I heard on the 
way home. When he was done talking about his day, Scott took the 
opportunity to inquire about his piano lessons. Robby said that they 
went well, but added that he had a good time in music class today.  
"Today
 in music we all had to take turns making up a song. Miss Olga gave us a
 tune and we had to come up with words and sing it to everybody. At 
first I was nervous, but I decided to man up and sing loud and proud." 
Of
 course Scott and I asked for an encore performance. Robby stood up at 
the table, adjusted his shirt, and loudly sang this little ditty.
Curse you Nana, for the bean soup. 
You gave it to my Momom and it makes her toot.
Her toots are really loud.
Her toots go really long.
With a smell that bad it is just wrong.
Sigh. I think we need to revisit the personal information vs. school/ public sharing again.
You gave it to my Momom and it makes her toot.
Her toots are really loud.
Her toots go really long.
With a smell that bad it is just wrong.

 
 




