As a child, my mother used to sing me a bed time song that we now refer to lovingly as "the potato song." Of course I sing it to Madeline frequently as well. (It is one of the few that I learned as a child that doesn't involve death or dying... 'suffocation' anyone? Oh, you think I'm joking... oh, how I wish I was!)
Today Madeline was playing with her new kitchen, a birthday present from Granny and Poppy, and I noticed something that I have to share.
There are potatoes in the oven, in the oven and they're getting nice and brown.
There'll be lots of watermelon, watermelon, when the season rolls around.
In the pantry there is chicken oh boy chicken
In the smoke house lots of ham.
Oh I'd rather be a chicken, yes a chicken, than a poor smoked ham.
A poor smoked ham!
Did you happen to see that the potato looks totally terrified AND has a pig nose? Talk about a poor smoked ham!