We Are The Dinosaurs Marching, Marching…
One of Sydney’s favorite movies just happens to be Madagaskar. She’s been able to say that mouthful of a word ever since I picked up the movie and brought it home.
Okay, sure… sometimes it sounds a bit like “Ma-uh-ga-kar”, but she’s saying it, dammit.
Tonight being Tuesday, it’s American Idol night in our house. Addiction to shows like this is maddening; I find myself determined to be around and paying attention, yet I have no idea as to why, and outside of this sickness, no actual idea as to why, either.
Sydney, on the other hand, would much rather watch Chicken Wittle, but she tolerates The Idol and even chuckles along.
In a moment of childhood child-i-ness, she pulled all of the cushions off of the couch and was hopping along on them. She was kanga-roo-ing, if you must know.
Eventually, she was hopping along on the cushionless-couch and someone had just finished rocking out The Idol.
It must have been inspiring, for I heard Nicolle’s very distinct laugh up on the second floor in my office. It was a very bemused laugh, so I creaked out of my chair and headed to the lofted sort of upstairs hallway/landing thing that we have.
“What happened?”
“Show daddy what you did…”
Sydney did a little wiggle, threw out her arm and said, “Move it move it”, which is the end song to Madagaskar. It’s also the name of that character–according to her–when she sees him on the DVD case.
We all laughed at this; it was pretty damn cute, to be honest. You would have loved it.
But that’s not the funny part; my little entertainer is apparently far more brilliant than just this little display.
After a little while, it was bed time and Nicolle and Sydney started up the stairs. Nicolle still had it all rattling in her head, so she let loose with a “You’ve got to move it move it”.
Sydney shot back, “I AM!!!”
We’re still laughing about that now…