That's scary! Tell me again ...

Little kids get scared easily.  But as they start getting older, you see them starting to kind of, just ever so slightly, enjoy the thrill of things that are scary. Witness my interaction with Will this past week ...

Will likes me to sing the "Hush Little Baby" song to him (you know, the one about the mockingbird) when I tuck him in at night.  If I try to sing something different, he quickly interrupts and says, "No, Mommy. Hush Baby."  He likes all the different things Mama's gonna get the little baby in the song.  One night after the song he sighed deeply and said, "I wish I had a mockingbird."

Anyway, I guess about a week ago, when Daddy had to tuck Will in because Mommy wasn't home, Daddy sang the "Rock-a-Bye Baby" song.  This song freaked Will out a bit.  I know because when it was my turn again the next night, he made sure to be clear, "Sing the Hush Baby song. NOT the Cradle song. Dat's a scary song. Cuz there's da baby and da tree falls and da baby falls and ..."  He accompanied his description with emphatic gestures of the baby falling out of the tree and finished with "Dat's a SCARY song."

Message received, Will. In our house, we do NOT sing the Cradle song. Except ... well ...

Tonight, when I started singing Hush Little Baby, he stopped me, and said, "Sing da Cradle song. Dat's a scary song."  I was a little confused, so I double-checked, "You mean where the baby falls out of the tree?"  And again, with emphatic gestures, "Yeah, and da cradle and da wind and da baby falls out of da tree."

So I sang it.  And Will's eyes got wide.  And when the song was over, we had to discuss again how scary that song was, and again with the emphatic gestures and re-telling of the horrible story of the baby that falls out of the tree. And then he was content.  Kisses, hugs, and five minutes later he was asleep.

Well, I tried.

It's a beautiful morning.  The thermometer on my deck says it's only 70 degrees - the real heat of the day has not set in yet.  I open the door from the kitchen to the deck to get some fresh air inside while I make coffee.

Then Will comes in, all happy and bouncy.  I scoop him up and walk outside with him, and in my best, soft-whispery, sing-song Mommy voice I say:
"Look at this beauuutiful morning! Take a deep breath. [I take a deep breath.] The air is fresh and cool.  The golden sun is shining through the trees.  There's a small breeze.  All is still and quiet except for a few birds in the distance.  Isn't it lovely?"
And Will whispers back, "Yeah. Can I go back in now?"

Sigh ...  Oh well.