Vivian stood with her hands on top of her head and taught us the rhymes. Nothing says Saturday night fun like three-generation Simon Says.
Vivian as the teacher: Hands on top.
Vivian, mimicking the class’s response: That means stop.
Vivian as the teacher: Hands on your knees.
Vivian as the class: Listen, please.
“Hey,” I say, breaking Vivian’s control of her imaginary class. “I should try this with my Junior High students.”
“Good luck with that,” my husband says. “I’ve got a rhyme, though,” he adds.
My husband: Hands on your butt.
My husband: Now, shut, shut…up.
I laugh. “That one might work with eighth and ninth graders,” I say.
“Has anyone seen William lately?” I ask.
My question is met with silence and shrugs.
Vivian gets in the inventive mood. “How about this rhyme?” she says.
Vivian: Hands on your feet.
Vivian: Now take your seat.
“Good rhyme,” my mom says.
“Now there’s a visual,” I say. “Why don’t you demonstrate that, Viv?”
Vivian waddles across our kitchen, hands on her feet, butt in the air.
I laugh and get up to search for my other child.
What did you do this past weekend?
Feel free to share in rhyme.