Mother Goose, Mary and Directives to Parents

One night recently we hung out in Will's room before bed. Sophie was on the top bunk "reading" a Mother Goose book.

Sophie sung like (I imagine) a late-nineteenth century slave woman, "One for my masser... one for my masser..."

(Apparently this is the only line she knows of Baa Baa Black Sheep.)

(...and I never thought of the racial implications of this nursery rhyme until that moment.)

In the meantime, Sophie moved on to another page to sing, "Mary had a little sheep... Mary had a little sheep..."

A few minutes later, Will whined a little when Andy and I teased him while helping him get ready for bed. "Oh Will," I told him, "We are just playing with you!"

"I am a person," he announced, "I am not a toy, I am a person and I do not want anyone playing with me!"