…and, goodnight.

Especially for my music-loving friends…

Yet again, another sleepy time with Isabella (the five-year-old) is upon us. Only this time, it’s with a twist.

Iz: Sing me a song. You pick. Anything you want. Then, I get to pick one.

Me: Really? Anything I want? Ok…

DDT did a job on me.
Now, I am a real sickie.
Guess I’ll have to break the news
That I got no mind to lose


Me: What, not a Ramones fan?

Iz: Now do Twinkle, Twinkle.

Me (dutifully): Twinkle, Twinkle little star… (blah blah blah)

Iz: Ok. Your turn.

Me: Ok (in full falsetto brilliance)…

You don’t have to put on the red light.
Those days are over
You don’t have to sell your body to the night.


Iz: Daaaaaaddy!

You don’t have to wear that dress tonight,
Walk the streets for money.
You don’t care if it’s wrong or if it’s right.

Iz: Now it’s my turn. ABC.

Me: That’s the same song you just asked me to do. Only with letters instead of words. Ok… ABCD, EFG…. (You know the rest.)

Iz: Your turn.

Me: Ok. Here’s one you don’t know.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly.

Iz: Zzzzzzzzz.

Say what you will, but I’m learnin’ me a lifelong Beatles fan.

Iz: Now, scratch my back. Zzzzzz.

Crap. Always.

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