Political Incorrectness

M was fussy this afternoon.  (She did have four shots this morning, so it's not surprising.  Or I wasn't being entertaining enough, which is also a possibility.  Also, the vital statistics for this checkup are 15 lbs 8 oz and 24 inches long.  She's the weight of an average 7-month-old.  And the height of an average 4-month-old).   I was singing to her, as I've discovered over the last few days that this now calms her.  I've been trying out various songs in my repertoire, and discovered that she absolutely adores a song about spousal abuse.*  It's called "The Wee Cooper O' Fife" (lyrics here) and the narrative is that the cooper's wife is too proud to do housework, he beats her, and her pride evaporates.**




M responded to this by smiling and making her happy noises and kicking her legs.

So I posed a picture.

And in close-up:

I'm not sure she gets the implications of the song she's laughing at and the place she's lying, but on the other hand, her position at the top of the growth curve may make her feel that she's more than a match for any wee cooper, no matter where he comes from.

*To be fair, I loved it as a child too.  It's got a catchy tune, and . . . well, there's really no excuse for it.

**The relevant verses for this post are

The Cooper has gane to his woo' pack,
Nickety, Nackety, noo, noo, noo,
And he's laid a sheep's skin on his wife's ba'ck,
Hey Willy Wallacky, hoo John Dougal,
A lane, quo'Rushity, roue, roue, roue.

It's I'll no thrash ye for your gentle kin,
Nickety, Nackety, noo, noo, noo,
But I will thrash my ain sheep's skin,
Hey Willy Wallacky, hoo John Dougal,
A lane, quo'Rushity, roue, roue, roue.