No she doesn’t. Ways that she has no class include sneezing and farting at the same time (she gets that from her mother who is in all other respects completely demure), pulling faces when she is having a poo and then audibly sighing with satisfaction, being sick down her chin and then rubbing it in with her fist, and liking Paul Simon.
That last one is my fault. I have been singing the Boy in the Bubble and You Can Call Me Al to her since she was born, I guess just because they were the mellowest little catchy tunes I know the words to. Remember, I’m a dad now. I’m not supposed to know what’s cool.
Anyway, over the past couple of weeks the baby has been becoming more engaged with the world around her, and she is also making a lot more noise. Each morning she wakes up bright and chirpy, I give her her morning bottle while Lynne sleeps, we read the paper and I drink coffee, and she progressively gets more grumpy with me until eventually I can’t stand the noise she is making any more and I put Graceland on. I found out quite by accident, but she loves it. She could be going absolutely apeshit, but when the drums kick in on the Boy in the Bubble, that’s it. Rapt attention. The title track seems to be her favourite, when it’s on she stretches her neck until her head is wobbling on the end of it and her mouth hangs open. This means that she actually likes my singing and wants to hear the original versions! Ha ha!
I only play her the first half of the album of course. Every tune on there is a belter. But if you ever see an old vinyl copy of Graceland, have a look at it. Side A will be all scratched to fuckery while Side B will be pristine. That’s because it’s bollocks.
That last one is my fault. I have been singing the Boy in the Bubble and You Can Call Me Al to her since she was born, I guess just because they were the mellowest little catchy tunes I know the words to. Remember, I’m a dad now. I’m not supposed to know what’s cool.
Anyway, over the past couple of weeks the baby has been becoming more engaged with the world around her, and she is also making a lot more noise. Each morning she wakes up bright and chirpy, I give her her morning bottle while Lynne sleeps, we read the paper and I drink coffee, and she progressively gets more grumpy with me until eventually I can’t stand the noise she is making any more and I put Graceland on. I found out quite by accident, but she loves it. She could be going absolutely apeshit, but when the drums kick in on the Boy in the Bubble, that’s it. Rapt attention. The title track seems to be her favourite, when it’s on she stretches her neck until her head is wobbling on the end of it and her mouth hangs open. This means that she actually likes my singing and wants to hear the original versions! Ha ha!
I only play her the first half of the album of course. Every tune on there is a belter. But if you ever see an old vinyl copy of Graceland, have a look at it. Side A will be all scratched to fuckery while Side B will be pristine. That’s because it’s bollocks.
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