I get my best ideas, or perhaps my worst ones, whilst lying beside Sylvie, waiting for her to fall asleep. Tonight I lay there in the dark, hardly daring to breath and listening to the lone peeper that seems to have taken up residence in the neighbourhood trees. I fear his mating song may be in vain. His lonely call soon became the backdrop for a jaunty little tune that kept running through my mind. Using my time wisely, as I always try to do -- multitask fellow mothers! -- I made up some words for it.
Where did you come from, little one?
Out of my vagina -- oh what fun!
I know it sounds ridiculous but yes, it's true,
They tore me apart and...
Out came you!
I just sang it for David and his main quibble is that I had a c-section. I informed him I write for humanity, not just for me. But if I were to sing this to either of my children, which he has forbidden me to do on pain of divorce, I could simply replace the word "vagina" with "belly" and it would still work.