My MIL came down to Singapore from Malaysia recently
to spoil Noah rotten for a visit and has been singing all sorts of strange nursery rhymes to Noah. I guess it’s been a while since she last sung them, as she can’t seem to remember the lyrics. I guess that’s where C gets his inability to remember lyrics too!
MIL: Come, let’s sing Humpty Dumpty!
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Could not put Humpty back on the wall
Me: Errr… It’s ‘Couldn’t put Humpty together again’
MIL: Baa Baa black sheep have you any wool?
Jack and Jill went up the hill
Me: Huh? Those are two different nursery rhymes!
MIL: Never mind lah. Noah doesn’t know anything much what.
Me: Erm, no, I think you should teach him the right thing. Please sing the whole song properly.
MIL: Baa Baa black sheep have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir, three black fools
C: What are you singing? Why are you being racist? It’s ‘three bags full’! Not ‘three black fools’!
MIL: Hahaha. No, I sang it correctly!
Us: You didn’t… We both heard you…
Maybe I should have gotten her a CD of nursery rhymes for Christmas. Guess we just have to listen carefully to whatever she sings to Noah now, just in case she teaches him the wrong thing and he gets confused when he’s older.
This happened long ago but is too funny not to share! I’ve told this tale to many of our friends, but no harm telling it again here right? It’s a story that I plan to share with Noah when he’s older too, so writing about it here will definitely serve as a reminder next time.
After Noah’s jaundice had more or less cleared up within his first month, we decided to switch paediatricians, mainly because the one at TMC was terribly crowded and each time we were there for Noah’s checkup, we spent more time waiting to see the doctor than actually seeing her. The parking was also a nightmare and we figured that we would be better off somewhere else.
At his first appointment with Dr Tay, we had to fill up the patient registration card and since I was carrying Noah, C was tasked to do the paperwork. Noah had just turned a month old and I assumed that C would have no trouble with all the forms and cards. I guess it’s true that when you assume, you make an ass out of ‘u’ and ‘me’!
When I called the clinic later that month to inquire about Noah’s next appointment, I was surprised to hear that there was no such patient registered at the clinic. There was a Noel, but no Noah. Yes, my brilliant husband, MBA and all, had spelt his own son’s name wrongly.
C denied that he had made the mistake, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps his handwriting was too messy and the nurse was the one who made the mistake. We checked the card on our next visit and there, printed clearly in C’s handwriting, was Noel Tan. No cursive handwriting or illegible scrawl to blame it on. He tried convincing me that I was the one who filled in the card and insisted that it wasn’t his handwriting, before claiming to have been having a conversation with his friend, Noel, just before that. Excuses, excuses.
So there you have it. My husband couldn’t even get his own son’s name right. Tsk tsk. Good thing I pre-printed Noah’s full name out for C to register his birth at the hospital, or Noah might have a totally different name now.
This happened about two weeks ago during Noah’s growth spurt, in which he woke up every two or three hours for milk at night.
After yet another exhausting night, I was trying to go back to sleep at about 7am when C woke up, looked at me and said happily, “Hey! He slept through the night!”
Me: What? This is the fifth time I’ve woken up already! You just slept through it all…
A few days later, after I had gotten Noah to fall asleep after nursing him, C woke up and asked, “He just woke up for milk?”
Me: Yes, this is the second time I’ve woken up tonight already.
C: Huh? Second time only? I’ve woken up five times already! You just slept through it all…
Me: (thoroughly confused due to the lack of sleep) How’s that possible? I didn’t hear him and YOU did? How did you get him to go back to sleep without milk?
It then dawned on me that he was trying to be funny by repeating what I said the previous night. Duh. There’s no way he would have been able to (a) hear Noah fussing if I didn’t and (b) get him to go back to sleep on his own!
I’ve decided to start recording the silly things we say, do and encounter in our daily lives as parents. This is, I hope, the first of many amusing moments!
PS. S*** Happens really should be #1 but I didn’t think of starting this collection when I wrote that entry. Was too busy laughing! 😛
C was away for a business trip and as usual, I took photos of Noah and sent them to him, knowing that he was missing our little boy.
Here’s Noah, dressed for bed.
C’s response to the photo was that he resembled the tiger in the cereal advertisement.
This morning, when he came back and was playing with Noah, he asked Noah:
“Are you a tiger? Are you a tiger in bed?”
Then, realising the blunder he had made, he looked at me and asked, “What does that even mean?”
I was too busy freaking out over just how wrong it sounded to reply him. *shudder*