The first nursery rhyme that I recited on auto play was Piggy on the Railroad.
My parents apparently thought it very charming to see their little girl in two pigtails singing Piggy on the Railroad with gusto, and they rarely hesitated to include others in this happy ritual. Only thing was, once I started I wouldn’t stop.
These singing sessions would invariably start like this:
Mum: “Baby, sing a song for Auntie X”
H [deep intake of breath. gulp. Eyes shut, mouth opens, top volume]:
“Pigggy on the raaaaaailroad, piccccking up stones
Daaaaauwn came an engine…”
Clap clap clap clap clap!
Auntie X: “That’s lovely little H!”
Mum: “thank you baby. Now run along and play”
H [another deep intake of breath. gulp. Eyes shut, mouth still open, top volume]:
“Piggggggy on the rrrrrrrrrrraaailroad…”
Mum: “Ummm baby don’t you want to go play with your toys?”
H: “..picking up… “
Auntie X: “Look at what I’ve found in my bag! Only for little H!!!.“
H: “… stones…“
Auntie X: “Who’s going to take this chocolate from auntie?! Who’s going to pop a nice sweet chocolate in her mouth [and shut the bleeding hell up]?”
H: “…Daaaaauuuun came an engine and broke piggggggy’s bone
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa said the piggy…”
Mum [smiling purposefully]: “Baby that’s enough.”
H: “… that’s not fair!
Oooo said the engine driver…”
Mum [gently, firmly steering me back to my room]: “Baby really that’s enough. Auntie’s going to get a headache now.”
H “… I don’t care!”
After one particularly intense session of piggy getting mauled on the railroad, repeatedly, this ritual stopped. Mum didn’t seem to want me to sing for nice chocolate carrying aunties and uncles anymore.
I didn’t really think about it till a few days ago when I remembered this.
Copyright to this masterpiece belongs to little H [5yrs].