In fact, staying on that subject, it’s time to address an especially peculiar aspect of my daily ablutions: namely, what Mum and Dad refer to in a disconcertingly natural way as “Poo Songs”, although I’m not at all sure there’s anything natural about them.
Essentially, Mum and Dad often feel I need a bit of encouragement to do what comes naturally so, when my nappy is being changed, they often give me as much as they can to complete my business in the open air, so to speak. To that end, Dad, with Mum’s full backing, I feel I should point out, has taken to adapting the words of popular recordings to incorporate what can only be described as a recurring faecal theme: these include, but are not limited to: “It’s My Party (And I’ll Poo If I Want To), “Can You Feel The Poo Tonight”, “Poo Colours”, and the classic, “Pooing Around”.
Strange as it may seem, this tactic often bears fruit. It makes me feel a little more relaxed, and takes a bit of the pressure off me to perform, so to speak. Of course, this is all the encouragement Dad needs to come up with new creations, and in recent days I’ve been treated to the dubious honour of being serenaded with “Everybody Poos” and “Poo On The Moon”, among others.
I’m pleased to report that they weren’t the only songs I heard today: Dad was in the mood for an REM marathon, so we listened to many of their songs in the bedroom, from various stages of their output: I liked what I heard, and smiled and swayed along.
A surprise today: a parcel arrived from England, with some lovely baby clothes from Great Uncle Malcolm and Great Aunt Helen. We like them very very much.