Massive Mummy Fail, or Why I Shouldn't Teach Mini Alternative Carols

Opps.


You know one of those moments when you can't help but slap the palm of your hand against your forehead, Homer Simpson style? Its usually that you've completely forgotten something important. Or you've gone out without brushing your hair and look like you've just been dragged through a hedge. Or possibly (as in my house) one of the Bratling's has overheard a ranty swear word you hadn't meant to say quite so loud. 


Well, I'm having a Doh moment.



There is something about Christmas carols, any and all of them in fact, that makes me forget I am a close to 30 year old and regress to my 7 year old self. 


I think its the fact that, as a child, no song was sacred at my school- we had to make up a witty alternative which made us laugh lots as we sang it (our Music teacher, we thought, was deaf. It was only years afterwards whilst at a wedding on bumping into her as a guest that she told my sister and I that she had always known what we were up to- sorry Mrs Richardson), or one of the class had an older brother or sister who told them a version they knew. 


I have never quite been able to get any of them from my head- I once had to stop myself singing "Cucumber" at a church event I went to when a friend's child was being given a certificate and I went with her to watch. I couldn't help it, I was nearly dying with the effort of not laughing by the end. She was not impressed and never asked me again. 


Next week, Mini is going to be singing, along with the whole of FS2 for the parents. They are considered too new to join in the nativity, so they let them do some carols for the parent's so they don't feel left out. 


Suffice to say, our house has been alive with the sound of music (or Mini's imitable version of), as she practices, over and over again, the songs they are singing. It is like living in a Christmas store, such is the "on a loop" nature of the singing. 


The problem started when I was brushing her hair after a bath- she was singing Jingle Bells. I absent mindedly started singing along. My "childhood" version. About how Batman smells, and Father Christmas lost his knickers on the M1 motorway. Not the "Traditional" version. 


As I said, oops.


Of course, she wanted to hear what other silly songs Mummy knows. So I told her. 


These included versions of "We Three Kings" (of Leamington Spa in my version). Which includes Santa catching his pants alight. Or While Shepherds Wash Their Socks by Night. Not quite the versions her teacher has taught her for next week.


I thought, wrongly, that after only telling her once, she'd forget. 


Oops again.


As I left her in the class this morning, I saw her run up to her bestie mate K, and tell her about her songs. The Jingle Bells one. Not the original. 


Bugger.


I really will have to teach her the proper ones again now, or I may get quite told off on Wednesday. Either that or all the other parent's will have been in classes as a kid like me and join in.


Never going to happen.