Hello Friends!
Mama can be a bit irritating sometimes. She keeps singing!
Tonight, I heard her on the phone with Dada, and here is what happened:
"OK, so I'll see you in twenty minutes," Mama said into the phone.
Then she turned to me.
"Dada's coming home!" she squeaked.
Then - urgh! - the singing.
"Dada's coming home, Dada's coming home, Hey ho the dairy oh, Daday's coming home."
OK, Mama, I told her, I get it.
"You'll give him a lick, You'll give him a lick, Hey ho the dairy oh, You'll give him a lick."
OK, Mama, I told her. He's coming home and, when he comes in, I'll give him lick-kisses. Got it.
"Dada's coming home, Dada's coming home, Hey ho the dairy oh, Dada's coming home."
Yes, Mama, I told her. I heard you the first time. Dada home, me lick. Mission briefing complete. I am tongued and ready.
"You'll give him a lick, You'll give him a lick, Hey ho the dairy oh, You'll give him a lick."
Mama, you know I love you, I said, but you aren't really blessed with the best voice in the world. I've seen those other ladies on the TV, and you just don't sound like them. Mama, don't make me get all Simon Cowell on yo' ass.
"Dada's coming home, Dada's coming home..."
Mama, shouldn't you be concentrating on putting away the clean dishes from the dishwasher? You might drop something if you are distracted by that - uh - singing.
"...Hey ho the diary oh, Dada's coming home."
Mama! Enough already! I'm going into the lounge to my bed.
Why don't hairless apes speak dog?
Lots of licks and woofs,
Puppy Dog