So there we were, enjoying coffee and a perfect morning on the back deck, sunshine streaming through the trees, trees swaying in the slight breeze, myself, SOBUMD, the Human Tape Recorder, and the Reigning Queen of Pink. We had some bread diced fine scattered on the railing for the birds, who were waiting impatiently for us to get out of the way so they could eat it – some of them actually weren’t waiting, and would land, peck a crumb of bread, and flap off again, right in front of us. This being more than the cat, Albus the Gay, could bear to watch, the girls relented and let him out on the deck with us.
This shortly lead to a predictable round of song about “who let the cat out, who, who, who,” which was mercifully brief, and then morphed into a description of how the birds view the large, lazy, 20+ pound cat.
“They think he’s the wind!”
“They think he’s the oncoming storm!”
“No,” says the 10-yr-old Reigning Queen of Pink, “he’s the oncoming chubby!”
SOBUMD and I dissolved in laughter. “Wait,” quoth she, “I saw one of those already this morning!” For my part, I think “The Oncoming Chubby” is the best name for a band I’ve ever heard. We’re still snickering. The girls, again mercifully, don’t know why.