I was tucked away working in my office last Saturday. All the rooms in our new apartment are arranged off the central communal space so no one is ever very far away. (This can be a good and a bad thing.) Everyone was home pottering about. I was unaware of them. Later, when I thought back to what had happened, I realized I’d heard this:
Setting: In the distant subconscious of Jenny’s brain.
Husband: *singing* Little boxes on the hillside-
Son: Dad. Shhh: Mum!
Husband: *singing* little boxes made of ticky tacky;
Son: *urgently* DAD! Shhh. Mum’ll start…
Husband: Huh?
Me: *singing* little boxes, little boxes, little boxes all the same…
Son: *tutting* Oh never mind. It’s too late.
I sang Little Boxes aloud to everyone’s irritation for approximately twenty four hours until after lunch on Sunday, this happened:
Setting: the dining room table. Son is doing homework. Jenny is working. Husband is doing something; it wasn’t the tax returns… though it probably should have been.
Son: *Looking up* How do you spell ukulele?
Me: *bursts into song* ukulele; ukulele, ukulele me!
Husband: *bursts into song in the style of George Formby* I’m leaning on a lamppost at the corner of the street in case a certain little lady comes by… (He actually does the ukulele actions: that must be doing air ukulele?)
Son: Grrrrrr
Me: U-K-E-L-E-L-E (I even spelt it wrong)
It’s now Wednesday and I’m still singing Ukulele; ukulele, ukulele me!
I even irritate myself sometimes but at least I’ve learned to spell ukulele, ukulele, ukulele me! ♫
8 comments:
It's called earworm when you get something stuck on your brain! I always have something...!
Noooo! I'm now singing 'Little Boxes' and I don't even live in your apartment!
Bleurgh to Fp's earworm btw!
Heading off for a two-day hike in the Cairngorms, I found myself whistling the same four bars (couldn't remember any more) of a song I'd heard on the radio.
My kit bearer (Queenie's butler) was very good about it; he has fine manners.
I managed to stop sometime on the second day.
I keep getting told off having developed the habit of pronouncing ukelele the way it's pronounced in Hawaii - ookoolaylay!
Heard it said that way once and thought 'oh, that makes sense', so with my Polynesian roots, I thought I'd start pronouncing it 'properly'...
I know exactly what you mean. I've been singing Postman Pat for the last nine years.
CJ xx
Why did I click on to the links to the songs... now I'm singing "leaning on a lamp post..." too! Jane x
George Formby? Never heard of him. Although I often think of the ukulele when I’m cleaning windows.
Have a nice day, Boonie
I swear they do it just to annoy me.
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