Baby Rhyme Time

Every other Thursday I don't complain about being loaded into the Seat of Doom. Why? It's Baby Rhyme Time at the library. There are dozens of mothers, a scattering of fathers and each hold a baby. A whole flock of buggies take up the Children's Reference Section. Looking at the high end buggies makes me envious but this unworthy emotion is soon submerged in the euphoria of being part of a synchronised baby lifting team. Dozens of babies soar skywards then gracefully move downwards to the tune of "The Grand Old Duke of York". A brief sit for "Row Row Row Your Boat" (all four verses) then the excitement of "A Dingle-Dangle Scarecrow".

Some babies disgrace themselves by breaking into noisy and unmelodious screaming but I behave impeccably. I merely gurgle with enjoyment at appropriate points. Mummy isn't bad at singing the songs either. Several of us finish the session by having a restorative suckle and I enjoy the camaraderie of this too.