In very much the same way that applesauce is a vegetable at my parents’ house (in that it may make an appearance at nearly every meal, unlike an actual vegetable), baked beans are a common item at our evening meals, particularly since we have moved to the UK. It is a staple in my daughter’s diet (the reduced-sugar type as often as I can find it) as it is a decent source of protein for my mostly non-meat-eating girl. She really should be a spokesperson for Heinz.
And of course, where you have bean-eaters, you have
Beans, beans the musical fruit
The more you eat, the more you toot
The more you toot, the better you feel
So eat beans at every meal!
My husband grew up with a variation on this rhyme, that being that beans are good for your heart, so the more you eat the more you…well, you get the picture. I don’t know if this means that this childhood rhyme (I do not dare say “nursery rhyme”) is a common one, or simply that we just grew up in equally classy households.
Why is it, exactly that children (and men) find such humor in gastric disturbance?
Last night at dinner – again – as we all started to get up to clear the dishes, Pea slid off her chair, sidled around to the Hubs, and extended her index finger. “Pull my finger”, she cried with delight, and as he did, she blew a raspberry in his face.
Thank goodness she lacks the ability to pass wind at will.
I’d have to give up all hope for her and let her run wild with howler monkeys or something.
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I’m handing over responsibility for the prompt for this post to this week’s Writer’s Workshop. Head on over to check out more linked up posts, as I’m sure there are proper posts about sweet childhood rhymes.