Sing a song

Jakub loves to sing to himself.  Most of the time, he makes up songs about random things like rain, shoes, grass, books, and pretty much anything that enters his consciousness.  These songs usually involve an aimless melody, wandering subject matter, and a disproportionate amount of falsetto singing.  He was singing one such song this morning when I remembered an incident from this past Christmas:

One of the houses in my parents' neighborhood went all out with their twinkle light decorations.  Every single inch of their roughly half-acre front yard was covered in tiny, glittering lights.  The crowning glory of the entire display was a giant, twelve-foot tall candle, complete with simulated flickering flame, on the roof of their house.  As you can imagine, this was a source of great fascination for my children, and whenever we had time, we deviated from our normal route home to gaze at the spectacle.  One night, Jakub decided to grace us with yet another song:

Jakub: "Giant candle....giant, giant candle........candle on the roof!"
Me: "That's so beautiful, Jakub.  Why don't you sing a song about mommy?"
Jakub: "No I'm done singing."
Me, with injured ego: "You don't want to sing a nice song about mommy?"
Jakub: "No."
Then, a few minutes later:
Jakub, singing: "Underwear, under, under, under, underwear....UNDERWEAR!!!" [finishing with great fanfare.]

Nice to know that in the giant totem pole of life, I occupy a lower position than smelly undergarments.