Songwriter

Our winsome granddaughter with the missing front tooth and tom-boyish wiles has become a songwriter.  She effortlessly composes sing-song lyrics and lilting tunes as part of her everyday routine. Her first famous song erupted not long after her third birthday while sauntering down the hallway after a confrontation with a sibling (if I remember correctly), and was entitled, “It is Not My Fault.”

It…is notttt…my faullllt,

It…is NOTTTT….my faullllt,

It…is NOTTTT….my FAULLLLT!

Yesterday morning she blurted out her parents’ latest favorite while riding in the back seat of the car.   It had to do with swallowing an insect (they think), and was entitled, “The Dying Song.”

This is the dying song.

If you want to die

Come straight into my mouth – (finger points deep into mouth)

I will send you up to God,

This is the dying song.

Good morning!