“Alligator” is an odd, ovally baby chew toy that was headquartered on the play mat on the kitchen floor. (Once the boy became mobile, the pack-n-play took its place. Well, not so much “took its place” – we just threw the play mat in the pack-n-play.) When the boy would get fussy I would dangle Alligator above him and, one time, I made up this song. I’m quite proud of its wordplay. (I realize that I say this about every song I do a strip about, which makes me seem conceited. Obviously, I’m not drawing up any of the crappy songs that crash-and-burned as they left my lips.)
Where’s Mommy?
The Alligator ate her
WAHHH.
Reminds me of Queneau’s pun in his novel Odile: Le crocodile croque Odile.
R.
I guess we’re pretty lucky that we don’t actually know the true reaction/response to a “made-up” song when our babies are too young to talk. You’re really lucky too John!