Mr. Trololo Vs. My Son’s Own Random Singing

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

You do so some pretty random stuff; so much so, that “random” is as good as “normal” these days.

Why did you run around the house for 45 minutes wearing Mommy’s pink Aeropostale hoodie?

I have no idea, but it definitely counted as a fairly safe and enjoyable activity on a Saturday afternoon. So Mommy and I just let you go crazy.

But it doesn’t take you being in “Tasmanian Devil” mode to be random. In fact, some of your finest work takes place in the car, while you’re strapped securely in your seat for an hour at a time.

While you do share my same appreciation for The Wallflowers’ Bringing Down The Horse as one of the finest albums ever recorded, you also enjoy taking the stage and the mic, as well.

I need to point out that virtually all lyrics that you sing/write are to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” in the highest key possible, without going falsetto:

“That blue dinosaur sneezed on the tree… it was the tree that the green dinosaur ate. Hey, there’s worms. The rain washed that spider and the kitty watched…”.

So being that you like to sing random songs you make up as you going along, Mommy and I figured we should share our newest obsession with you, Mr. Trololo:

Needless to say, Mr. Trololo is now the mutual ringtone that Mommy and I have for each other, as well as the song we use for our alarms in the morning.

There’s just something about that whimsical Russian man that makes the world a better place. As for your own reaction to Mommy and I singing Mr. Trololo’s song to you, in somewhat of an effort to playfully annoy you, we love hearing your hilarious response:

“Don’t sing it, you guys!”

It feels good to be the kid every once in a while.

Love,

Daddy

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