green-roomRecently some monkeys were jumping on the bed, one bumped his head and they went to the doctor. The doctor said no more monkeys jumping on the bed. This is good advice, but hardly worth the price of an office visit.

I’ve also heard about these speckled frogs who were sitting on a bumpy log. Sequentially each one jumps into the cool waters of a pond until there are no more frogs. Where did the speckled frogs go? My mother has asked me this question nearly every day for more than six months now and I still don’t have the answer. I don’t know where the frogs went, though it is possible they are somewhere beneath the cool waters of the pond. There is a farm nearby run by an older man named McDonald, and he has a raft of noisy animals on it, and people are rowing boats gently, gently down streams, and life is but a dream, for some reason.

These are great mysteries to me. I don’t understand why I have to say good night to the moon. Is there actually an old woman with the head of a rabbit sitting in a corner whispering ‘hush?’  That creeps me out.

There is this itsy bitsy spider who climbs up a water spout, then water comes out and the spider is washed out. Then the spider, although still quite itsy bitsy, climbs up the spout again. I looked up water spout in Wikipedia and found that it is a cataclysmic columnar vortex that appears over a body of water, connected to a cumuliform cloud. It seems far too dangerous a thing for an itsy bitsy spider to be messing around with, but Wikipedia is often wrong. I will have to ask an itsy bitsy spider about climbing these water spouts.

My mother has also told me this: Babies, apparently, are set to rock in cradles among the tree tops, and the cradles fall periodically, bringing down baby, cradle and all. Can’t something be done about this? A tree top seems a poor location to hang a cradle. I might be too literal, but I have to wonder why they are filling my mind with these stories. Is it too soon to start reading the Wall Street Journal? There are nursery rhymes in there, too, but at least they are vetted by journalists.

About babyblogger

Together father and son write a blog called overfiftyunderfive.com

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