Granny, sing the rat song.
I can't even remember the tune and I don't recall any of the words except I fancy that there was a cat that met a horrible end. I vaguely remember thinking it might have been rather a bloodthirsty song for a three-year-old. But I was consoled when I considered that a jaunty tune takes the edge of many a gory tale. So - a jaunty tune, a sliced up cat, a vindicated and heroic rat....
4 comments:
Off to a wake tonight but missing the funeral for work. It's our age. We've no control over all these who are dying
That is certainly true. By the time my father was in his seventies he was going to about three funerals a month. His brother would phone him up and say, "D'ye know who's dead now?" Then he'd say something like, "Boys-a-dear. And there was I only talking to him a fortnight ago!" Then they'd decide whose car they'd take to the funeral and make their plans. Daddy always preferred the funeral to the wake as he liked getting to his bed at a 'dacent hour'.
My SILs taught my kids that wonderfully comforting song "Little Bunny Foofoo"... They had a whole routine to go with the song... Good to hear your teaching the same to your grand... tradition is a good thing...
Today the rat was caught by the cat and escaped when cat sneezed. It was then grabbed by a buzzard with sharp talons and a dangerous beak...
It did all end well.
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