Taking charge

There are times as a parent when you grow oblivious to your own command-giving. You direct or instigate direction (which juice would you like?) dozens of times an hour. So it's kind of refreshing to have the tables turned once in a while and live in your child's shoes. Corin's recent favorite activity is to sing, and he's the band leader, directing us peons to come in on cue.

"I'm Bot! I can show you anything — on my belly belly belly screen," he sings (from Team Umizoomi... there's a robot with a belly screen that, well, shows anything).

"You say 'skyscraper,' I say 'taxi, Mama say 'traffic light.'" he'll tell us. If we come in late, he repeats the instructions as if we hadn't heard him.

"Skyscaper!"
"Taxi!
"Traffic light!"

He also like to make up his own music. He combines "Mamma Mia" and "Old MacDonald" to make quite the mash-up: "I say 'Mamma mia,' Mama say "had a farm," and you say 'my, my.' (How can you resist that?)

Or he'll just make up words for whatever he doesn't understand. In another TV show song, the chorus encourages us "don't play rough," which he renders as "don't play drump!" (Or, perhaps, he understands it perfectly well and is just reserving the right to play rough if he wants to.)

Addendum: I was thinking that "drump" should be a word if it wasn't already, and looked it up on google. It turns out that it's "A word that has absolutely no meaning. When used correctly, is a good silence breaker." See also: drrrump.