Chicken, Not Ham

Jakob's school had a Christmas program last week. Give you one guess as to how Jakob did during his "performance":


Yep. That's my son, the ham, the star of the show. This is his expression during the entire three songs the Kindergartners did:


I had oodles of fun getting his picture. After sharing half a seat with Arin, we snuck up to the front of the auditorium. Then I army crawled with my butt in the air, in front of the whole gym of parents, to get over to where Jakob was "singing". I didn't want my head in everyone's video shots, after all, so they got shots of my butt instead.

After the Kindergartners were done singing, we could go to their classroom to pick them up. Jakob was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, head in hands, crying his little eyes out. I asked him what was wrong, why he didn't sing.

"I just wanted you, Mom."


Poor little chicken. Oh well, maybe someday he'll grow out of it.

Singing Time in Brockese

Brock loves to sing.

In nursery he'll request songs when the music lady comes in. And when he's done singing a song he'll praise himself with an ultra high-pitched "GOOD JOOOOOB!" But like his older brother, he won't perform. We tried to videotape him once, and the whole time he said, "NO! No singing! Leave my lone!" So yesterday, after he sang "I am a Child of God" for the hundredth time (his other favorites are "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam"), I wrote down the lyrics according to him:

I meen a chi-owd uh God

An' dee has sen' me here

As gee ben me uh earfy home

Wee pear wents kind n' dear

Leave me, guy me, walk me side me

Heh me fine da way

Teach me all dat I muss do

To wiv wit Him somedaaaay!