When Skies Are Grey

On our way home from a playdate this afternoon, Fritter was fussy. It was 1:30, and a little past naptime, and he was mad. First, he had a rock in his shoe and asked me to take his shoes off for him. I don't know about you, but I can't manage that on the freeway. So I told him to take his own shoes off. "But I caaaannnn'ttttt!" he wailed. Then he wanted his socks off, again, I told him to do it himself. "But I CAAANNNNN'TTTT!" Still 20 minutes from home and unwilling to listen to fussing the whole way, I tried a different approach. Singing.

"Lullaby, and good night, with roses bedight...."

Soon I was interrupted with, "Can you do another one? How 'bout....when skies are grey?"

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey..."

"Can you do it again?"

"You are my sunshine..."

"How 'bout...Baby Mine?"

"Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes..."

And by the time I got through that one twice we had pulled into the driveway. At which point Fritter happily said, "The End!"

The end indeed.