There's a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, a hole.
Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry
Then fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it!
I think about this song all the time, sometimes I sing it to Maeve, although I have to make up a lot of the verses because I've forgotten them over the years. I sing it to her, though, because of her pacifier.
Remember how like, 4 months ago, I wrote that Maeve had given up her paci? Well, it's back. I think sucking and chewing on it helps with her teething - a never-ending battle. She's cutting three top teeth at the moment, which is not in any way enriching my life or sleep.
She crawls around the floor talking to herself, which with her paci in her mouth sounds like a humming noise. I encourage this because otherwise she often crawls around whining and crying, and the pacifier plugs that whine-hole perfectly. And best of all, I can still see her smiles and hear her giggles through it. How much better can an invention get? I mean, it's no Boppy, but the pacifier is a darn fine thing.
Also, she can blow raspberries with it in her mouth, my little prodigy
|I like this thing.|