“Swipewy fsh. Swipery fsh. Swimmin’ in da wadah. Swipewy fsh. Swipery fsh. Swimmin’ in da wadah.”
C is standing in front of us, moving her clasped hands straight in front of her.
M and I look at each other and shrug.
“Oh! No! Isbeaetenbya ocdoput” She squeals as she slaps her hands to her cheeks.
Now we are completely perplexed. We have no idea what she’s singing, and we don’t understand the words enough to find the song online.
C couldn’t care less; she sings her new favorite song over and over again.
For a week I drop her off at daycare and forget to ask the daycare provider if she knows what C is singing. For a week, C asks me to sing with her and I have to admit I can’t because I don’t know the song. I thought I knew a lot of kid’s songs, but this one is completely new to me and I can’t get a clue. Never before has the Internet failed me.
The following week I start asking C to perform for all our parent friends in the hope that someone will recognize the tune or at least some of the hand gestures. I’m met with blank stares and shrugs all around. C is unfazed and keeps belting out her song, loving all the attention. She only knows one bar and repeats it over and over again. I’m starting to hear it in my sleep. Who would have thought a children’s song could make me loose my mind?
And when I’m on the verge of giving up I finally ask one last friend. We’re at dinner and I turn to C and beg her to do her thing. She gleefully opens wide and starts to sing, and miracle of all miracles, my friend, the speech therapist who spends her days with kids, joins in:
“Slippery fish, slippery fish, sliding through the water…“
M and I look at each other and burst out laughing. We should have known who to ask. C is ecstatic and makes our friend sing the song over and over again. We just listen and commit the words to memory. We know that it’s not the last time C will come home from school or daycare talking about something we’ve never heard of, we just thought we’d have a few more years to feel like we know more than she does.