Through the mediums of wailing, slapping, biting, sobbing pitifully, breaking stuff and demanding to be breastfed every three minutes, small has communicated that he is having a less than perfect day. Cajoled into his first sleep of the day early, prematurely woken to go to his hated swimming lesson, forbidden from eating an entire jar of nutella, car travel, visiting people. Horrid.
Fortunately he has one magic Off Switch:
Three taps of the high hat and small is silenced. Back when he was only a couple of months old he went through a phase of hating the car, screeching and flailing and choking on spit if we were on the road for more than five minutes. Cows saved us, playing on high rotation, its magic effect never fading. The beloved and I would describe our car trips with small in numbers of Cow repeats: a three Cow trip, a five Cow, a heavenly zero Cow (it’s pretty great, but even I have my limits), a horror-Cow-on-a-loop. On the up side, all this exposure to the vocal stylings of The Seldom Herd (seldom, ha!) stands me in good stead for days like today. Today I have sung it all over the house, hummed it as I’ve carried the small one to and from the car, played it in the car and acted it out with some very Cow-esque dance moves in the showers at the pool. Fun times.