Twenty had an anti-Fianna Fail rant of epic, blood pounding proportions today, and a song my mother used to sing me as a lullabye popped into my head.
The music has it firmly lodged there, if you don't know the melody and rhythm, check them out, they make it, though I think the words are mighty too.
The Battle Hymn of the Republic
We also sang a school version about 'the man who packed the parachute forgot to pack the string' which included the lines 'he landed on the pavement like a lump of strawberry jam' and 'they put him in an envelope and sent him to his mam'.
My mother also used to sing 'All the Pretty Little Horses', 'Oh Little Town of Bethlehem', but with an alternative, haunting melody, 'Jesus Loves Me', which is extremely warming.
And daytime songs were 'Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah', and 'Mama's Little baby Loves shortnin' Bread'.
All her growing up songs, I suppose. The stuff you go back to automatically when you have children.
Bodhi never said Mama that much, but he's started copying Olivia, and saying 'Mommeeee' in a little sweetie voice, which I find discomfiting. Especially when they both do it repetititively, with glee, from the supermarket trolley.