I love you, a bushel and a peck
A bushel and a peck, and it beats me all to heck
Beats me all to heck, how I’ll ever tend the farm
Ever tend the farm when I wanna keep my arms around you
My daughter is at the stage where she wants everything explained. This is especially true during songs at bedtime (which I think is actually part delay tactic, as well). Tonight, we were singing the song above, and got the question, “What’s ‘heck’ mean?”
“Uhm, it’s a unit of measurement.” That’s why I keep Ms. Kaz around – quick thinking when it comes to answering our daughter.
It’s not that ‘heck’ is really a bad word. It is just that (a) we don’t want her saying it, and (b) we don’t really know how the, well, how the heck to explain it.
Tonight, Ms. Kaz said to me, “I didn’t know what to tell her when she asked what ‘heck’ meant. I just picked unit of measurement like a ‘peck’.”
“Yeah, it is a unit of measurement for how frustrated we get with her,” I added, “10 hecks equals a hell.”
No nap made tonight about a 3 hell night (that’s 30 hecks).