Skip to my Lou, my darlin’

Some of Isaac’s junior high friends told him about a game they heard about that was made up by some kids at a nearby high school. The game has one rule, which is that as soon as you think about the game, you lose. Seven-year-old Rose loved this concept, especially the idea that you can make everyone else lose along with you. First thing the next morning, she told us all, “I lost the game!”

We spent this past weekend watching General Conference. Isaac’s a usually-pleasant person who likes to scowl at cameras (also sometimes when asked to do chores).

It helps me stay alert if I have something to do with my hands during Conference. This is over five hours’ worth of tatting. I won’t be making any hand-tatted bedspreads.

The other day five-year-0ld Henry said, “Mom, I want to start trading Pokémon cards with D. Well, I want to give D. some Pokémon cards, and then I want to start trading with him.”

Henry also says he’s learned two cool things in school: “Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” and “Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.”

Mabel, who’s 11, wanted to be on the ballroom team at her elementary school (although in the end it wouldn’t fit into her schedule) and spent quite a bit of time practicing the Cha-cha with friends at recess and at home with Dean. (I love that Dean will cha-cha with her.)

This morning two-year-old Hazel and I were walking Henry to the corner, where he meets up with my friend who walks him and her kids the rest of the way to school. Hazel loves our little walk and usually spends it looking for pieces of gravel.

Today I looked down and saw Hazel take a little step backward and say quietly, “Back step, triple step.”

Hazel likes me to sing Rockabye, Baby to her before her nap, and lately she’s been singing along. I said, “You learned the song,” and she answered, “In SCHOOL!”

This entry was posted in Meanwhile in the real world, My kids actually are funny (and sweet and wonderful). Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to Skip to my Lou, my darlin’

  1. Erin says:

    My kids like to lose the “first person who talks loses” game. Over and over.

    They are also obsessed with Pokemon cards. I’m pretty sure our kids would have a blast trading cards like crazy.

    And that tatting is beautiful. But wow, WAY too much work.

  2. hthalljr says:

    Those kids don’t know how lucky they are to have a Mom who enjoys all their BLATHER!


    Grandpa Tracy

    • zstitches says:

      I take it you’re still recovering from the videoconferencing? 🙂 I felt a little bad to not keep them more reined in when I went to make dinner–but I figured you had a mute button.

  3. Acheté says:

    I adore your children’s blathering. The mental tic Isaac was exposed to is at least three times as old as the following immunization:

    • zstitches says:

      How fun. It quite stands to reason that such a great concept predates some clever kids at a local high school. But it’s cute that they’ve adopted it.

      (And yes, of course we thought about your concept of running around the house three times without thinking of the word “elephant.” Or whatever the original formulation was.)

  4. Jason says:

    Like, like, like, like, like!

    the loo (I’m pretty sure…)
    reined in

    • zstitches says:

      Lou I looked up–it does come from Scottish “loo” for “love,” but in America, capitalized Lou is the traditional spelling, whether it makes any sense or not. At least that’s what my quick research indicated.

      Reigned is just embarrassing since I do know better. I’ll go fix it.

      • Jason says:

        I have never researched it outside my own mind, but calling the bathroom “the loo” I had guessed was a Victorian euphemism perverting the French lieu meaning place.

        The loo in, ♫ Skip to the loo, ♫ I had thought was a slang or colloquial for left from square (now “Contra”) dancing.

        I have no basis for believing the following bald assertion:

        Here’s an inconclusive discussion based on at least some survey of written usage:

        “Lew” had never occurred to me as a candidate spelling until this:

        “My lou” just does not sit well with me. As I pondered it, I thought of French milieu, the midst. That makes wonderful sense in a dance setting too. ♫ Skip to the [middle], my darlin’. ♫

        • the MomB says:

          I sympathize, but the fact that “my lou” doesn’t sit well with you is entirely irrelevant to the “meaning” of the phrase. Bright people like you can make up all sorts of potential origins. The probability is high that no one knows for sure where the phrase came from, but it’s also true that whatever its origin, “skip to my lou” is traditional–and it’s a long, long tradition. You can write it any way you want to, but your speculations are way too unfounded to sit well with me.

  5. molly says:

    ow she couldn’t do it i was so thrilled to hav a cousin in on balroom so we could dance together 😦

    • zstitches says:

      We were really disappointed, but it was a very inconvenient schedule. But she would still love to learn as much as she can, and would love it if you would practice with her.

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