Leo was all of six and a half years old. A half seems to matter when you’re that young. I’m six and a quarter. I’m going to be seven in four months. Because, you see, at that age birthdays matter.
Leo loved to sing. He knew all the nursery rhymes and a few other songs as well. His favourite song was:
This old man, he plays one
He plays knick knack on my thumb
With a knick knack paddy wack
Give a dog a bone
This old man comes rolling home.
And then his mother heard him singing:
This old man, he plays one,
He plays knick knack on my BUM.
BUM was emphasized to make sure all heard. Leo knew how to rhyme. His mother was amused but pretended to be shocked. She took Leo aside and told him that BUM wasn’t a nice word to use in the song. And if he was very good she would take him along to the Christmas carol singing next week.
He was a good boy, so off they went to the carols. Leo sang. The whole world heard him. He sang in tune but at the top of his voice.
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my BUM.
To listen to the story being read click HERE!
Bummer!
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😀 “Bummer” is just “Summer” without the Bee!
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O bummed, all ye faithful….
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All the little angels arse-end up on high!
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…as good King whence-is-lost looked down…
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The first Know-all… We are both definitely going through a Lady Mondegreen Period – sort of like Picasso’s Blue Period but with a touch of class!
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😀
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Hee, hee : )
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Don’t encourage him!
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Go Leo!! And I see some never grow out of it [not looking at anyone in particular CynthiaandBruce] 🙂
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It’s Cynthia’s fault. She started it.
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Stop it, the two of you, or I’ll stop this blog and make you walk home from here.
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Now, now, Yvonne. You’re starting to sound like my father!
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I am your father, son.
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Eek. This is starting to sound like the plot from Hamlet.
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Heh heh heh
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Don’t worry, Bruce. I’ll bet nobody in the world has a father named Yvonne.
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My father was Frank – not even Yvan.
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Or, Star Wars.
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I’ve never seen Star Wars – I believe it’s a movie? Sort of like The Bells of St Mary’s with Bing Crosby or something. Bob Hope maybe??
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There, you’ve got the plot and actors sorted, dead right. (Snicker.)
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You have to remember that I’m not in Venice, but at the bottom of the world, and we’re hoping for the premiere of Star Wars soon…
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Now, now Bruce, if Cynthia jumped off a bridge, would you follow her?
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Didn’t every mother in the world ask that question? But now I’m a bit worried, Pauline, that you have me jumping off a bridge… is that to be my pun-ishment?
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One crosses many bridges in ones life SPAN. My mother never asked that question, and what is more, I’ve never heard it before! True! I had a very sheltered up-bringing probably.
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Ha! I have no come-back for that one Cynthia 🙂 ….. I remember that question being asked of me by every adult in my life it seems and I know I asked my kids too…… But it’s such a silly thing to say really!
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I’m still amazed – even more so now – that I’ve never heard the expression before!
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In my family it was ‘cliff.’ As in, if so and so jumped off a cliff…
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I’m starting to develop an inferiority complex. I never knew the phrase, or any permutation of it. Perhaps I never tried to follow anyone.
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That must be it. Or your parents had other verbal methods…
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Oh, you’ve reminded me that later in high school we had ‘When the leemings all jump off the cliff will you go too?’ Thereby proving we had improved our education and watched the nature programmes on the telly 🙂
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Oh, that made me laugh!
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The composer Schumann jumped off a bridge, and I see no reason why Cynthia would want to do the same.
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No bum notes from Leo. Does he do While shepherds washed their socks one night?
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You’re ever worse than Cynthia! You’re both quite Ding-dong merrily on high…!
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We four Beatles of Liverpool are,
Paul in a taxi, John in a car,
George on a scooter, beeping his hooter,
Following Ringo Star.
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My favourite carol! Ruined!
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You do gather a bad mob around you for some reason, Bruce.
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Like flies to rotten food scraps…?
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Exactly.
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Hahaha loved this. Thanks for the tale!
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Thank you, Sean!
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Bum is a wonderful word. I love the way my lips press together on the M and and there’s a slight vibration that is kind of musical. It’s easy to understand why a child would have fun with it. So ummy, hummy, yummy.
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Sue – you crack me up! It is a magnificent word – and a shame that it is also wasted on hobos. Hobos should be content with the word “hobo” which is also a great word, and not steal the wonderful bum word from ones posterior.
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This story reminds me of the Barry Louis Polisar album I gave my nephew when he was a child. There was a song on it called Underwear, which my nephew loved singing loudly in public, thereby embarrassing my sister-in-law greatly. She has since passed it on to HIS children, but singing Underwear loudly in public would be pretty mild for them, so I don’t think it’s a problem.
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That’s a very cute song, isn’t it? I do really like Bruce’s favorite word for nether garments which is “smalls.” But little kids like to “shock” adults with lavatory humor. Some, especially males as I’ve observed, never grow out of it.
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I would just like to say one word about all this: tits.
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I rest my case.
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Oh bum!
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Yes, it’s been a long time since I heard someone refer to them as smalls. Polisar had a bit of a renaissance after the movie Juno, which features one of his songs. I was glad of that.
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These days, many no longer wear smalls. When they throw off their jeans there’s very little left.
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The child’s perspective has been ably captured.
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Thanks! I was thinking of a younger brother, although the details differ.
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We loved praying ‘for arse’oles’
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Hence, continence was regarded as a virtue – was it not?!
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🙂
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