On the way home from Wal*Mart today, the girls and I were singing This Little Piggy, as modified by Joe Scruggs:
This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy had roast beef,
and this little piggy, well, he had none.
And the last little piggy, our favorite little piggy, the one that we all know . . .
Said, "Hey, it's no biggie, but I don't play a piggy, I'm just a little baby toe!"
and the second and third verse only get better.
After a couple of rounds, Dixie said, "Hey, wait a minute. My piggy is talking to me." She takes off her shoe and listens to the bottom of her stockinged foot.
Remember, the girl is in a car seat with a five-point harness, so this takes talent.
"My foot says it's ready for a different song," she says, then pauses to listen, "It is ready for the ABC song."
"Okay," I say, and start to sing.
"WAIT!" she interjects. "My foot wasn't done talking . . . it wants me to sing by myself!"