The Result of a Snowy Morning (and too much coffee)

A little while ago I started jotting down random quotes, lyrics, words and what have you, that I liked.

I figured the web could do with one more quote page, so I set one up.
The link is in my "A Little Something Extra Category."

Go there. Now. And send me a quote or three. If I like them, I'll put them in.

Me, the Little Domestic

Growing up, most of us had those sweet little rhymes and rhythms that our parents used to nurse us to sleep (also known as getting us tikes to shut the hell up and go to bed).

For me, it was Jimmy Soul's "If You Wanna be Happy".
Yes. I know.

A few days ago, I had the opportunity to present another with such a lyrical gift when I babysat my cousin Mia, age three.

The evening was going swimmingly. We watched Nickelodeon, played dress-up. I even made her my renowned Sponge Bob cuisine.

Before we knew it, it was time for "biddy bye".
Her words, not mine.

I thought I had gotten away scott-free when she popped the inevitable question:
"Sing me a song, Lee Lee."

Number one, the second anyone under the age of 6 asks you a question using that adorable toddler lisp; they own you. Second of all, as soon as nicknames are thrown into the mix because they have difficulty saying your full name; they own you.

So of course, I had to comply.
Now those of you who know me. I should not sing. I don't usually get asked to sing. And most importantly, I do not sing.

But, on this occasion, I had no choice.
I figured, either my whimsical voice would whisk her away to sleep, or she would pass out from sheer misery.

After considering NIN's "Closer" a little too graphic for her, and not wanting to torchure her with Bette Midler's "The Wind Beneath my Wings", I decided on Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds".

Hesitantly I began my rendition, and by the fourth "cause every little thing gonna be alright", the kid was knocked out cold.

Even though she was mostly unconscious, I continued singin' my little heart out. And, for a change, it didn't matter that I was vocally challenged, I was enjoying myself.

By the time Mia's father came home, I had this kinda of warm and fuzzy feeling going on.
Which one may or may not attribute to the Sponge Bob Macaroni and Cheese I had for dinner.
However, I'd like to think it was a little bit of that maternal pride kicking in.

Now, this by no means hints that I want to, or plan on, getting knocked up any time in the near future. But, it does make me think, despite my attempts to act like a little hard ass that will never get hitched and do the family thing, maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.