mortality and children's songs

my daughter is a delightful (read: INSANE) five years old. it's a fun age, five. you can almost hold a real conversation. you can count on the five year old to get herself dressed (though it might be in pink striped tights, a leopard print skirt, and a blue tank top in the middle of winter). you can count on her to do her own 'wiping', if you catch me.

... but occasionally you get the warped view into the tiny little exploratory mind, and you have to wonder where you went wrong.

abi has adapted the 'hickory dickory dock' song to meet her developmental need to vex me.

"hickory dickory dock.
the mouse ran up the clock.
he got the hiccups and then he died,
hickory dickory dock!"

if that was all, it might not be so bad. however, she mixes it up. in fact, the song is rarely about a mouse. it's more often about her brother or the dog.

"hickory dickory dock.
braeden ran up the clock.
he got the hiccups and then he died,
hickory dickory dock."

that bugs me a little more. i mean, i don't like to hear about my son dying, much less of the hiccups. talk about losing faith in the local health system.

... and sometimes it's me! sometimes i run up a clock, get the hiccups and die! i don't rightly have a scheme for how i'm going to go, but i'd be horrified if i expired from hiccuping! just think of the mortifying obituary:

melissa passed this weekend after quite randomly scaling a longcase clock. the incident misaligned her diaphragm, causing her to hiccup to death. she expired surrounded by her survivors: husband todd, son, braeden, and daughter, abigail, who prophesied this event at the age of five. services will be held on wednesday. in lieu of flowers, please send pocket watches.