As I sat down to quickly check email, somehow Alexis' lyrics cut through my many thick layers of I Can't Hear You. It's a skill I learned from Mr. Husband, a method of self-preservation. I simply ignore anything Alexis sings when we're at home. Given that she spends 99.9% of her waking hours making up words and phrases and stringing them together into lyrics, I rarely hear her. It's completely necessary that I block her out. COMPLETELY. Hearing her lyrics inevitably leads to trying to understand her lyrics and absolutely no good can come of that.
I mean, what's the point in trying to find the logic in lyrics like, "There's a volcano in my ear . . . dance girl, dance . . . the kalilli is on fire?" THERE IS NO POINT.
But, somehow, someway, her words cut through to my head. She was singing some sort of alphabet song and despite knowing that nothing good could come of paying attention, I found myself tuned into her words.
"D is for dinner, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah," she sang. (Literally. She sang the non-word, "blah, blah, blah" out loud.)
"E is for elephant . . ." she continued, humming where I assumed the second half of the line belonged.
"F is for f*ck . . ." OH, YES, SHE DID.
"G is for God, who from heaven talked to nanny sooooo," Well, OF COURSE. If F is going to be for THAT, then why wouldn't G be for God? And why wouldn't he be talking to the nanny? Who else would he want to chat with?
Apparently sensing a little parental concern, Alexis paused in her singing. Looking up at me, she started to sing the song over again, this time watching me closely for a reaction.
I remained stone-faced even as she repeated the exact same lyrics for a second time. I was listening closely to her intonation, trying to determine if her word choices were intentional or the product of her usual need to create fake words when she doesn't have a real one.
She was making up the word, or at least she thought she was making it up. The conviction just wasn't there to make me think it was an intentional choice of sounds.
Realizing that she truly had my full attention, Alexis began to ask, "Momma, what does f*ck mean?" It's something she does all the time--she makes up words and then acts like I should know what they mean.
It was EXACTLY the word that was running through my head at the moment is what it meant. In a flash, I blurted out, "It's not a nice word, do you mean 'fudge?' or 'funny?' or 'fantastic?'"
"FUDGE!" she shouted. "I meant FUDGE!"
She started the song over again, this time using the slightly less graphic f word.
I sat completely still as she continued to sing, worried that if I so much as breathed a sigh of relief, she'd realize that it would be Really! Great! Fun! to incorporate her new word into her vocabulary on a daily basis. Fun for her. Not me. It wouldn't be fun for me at all.
A few minutes went by, me silently considering whether I needed to make more of a big deal about the accidental cussing or if I was better off just letting it go. Alexis continued to sing the song, over and over. Except I realized that she was singing a whole new set of lyrics on her most recent repeat.
"A is for angel," she started. This was new. A had been an apple before that moment. She continued on, declaring that B is for Bethlehem and C for cattle. Realizing that the whole song had abrubtly changed, I sat silent eagerly waiting to hear what F was going to bring.
Frankincense. F brought Frankincense.
I have a whole new perspective on those Three Kings and their gifts now. The dirty old men . . .
