Mommy: (Stops reading the story and turns to Bean) "Do you know what I have stuck in my head?"
Bean: "What Mommy?"
Mommy: (She sings the Blues Clues theme song to Bean) "I can't get it out of my head"
Bean: (Looks straight ahead and smiles while Mommy is singing the song. Mommy knows this is Bean's way of showing he is very happy about what is going on.) "What else do you have in your head Mommy."
Mommy: (Loving that her little boy does such a great job at setting her up for one-liners.) "Not as much as there used to be."
Bean: "There must be something else in there Mommy."
Mommy: "Oh there's lots of things in my head. Things about babies, and three-year-old's and trucks and diggers and garbage trucks, and obviously Blues Clues."
Bean: "What else Mommy?
Mommy: "I don't know, let me think.
Sure that this would be a great opportunity to recite some of her favorite poetry lines or one of her favorite passages from a book, Mommy begins scanning the rarely used portion of her brain so she can dazzle her son with her intellect. She sits there thinking, while Bean is waiting for her to tell him something else that is in her head. She is searching... babies, toddlers, baby gear, toys, dinner, diapers, laundry, cleaning, sandboxes, strollers, books, wait, there it is! Books...Frog and Toad, Little Bear, Diggers and Dumpers, Counting Kisses, Cars and Trucks and Things that Go...that's not right. She is able to come up with passages from any of those books but where is the Dickinson, Bronte, Austen, Tennyson, Whitman, Elliott. All that money she paid (well, Mommom and Poppop paid, thanks guys) and it's all gone! It's been replaced with Frog and Toad and Little Bear. They are great characters, but not exactly what she was hoping for when she took a degree in Literature. She is still scanning her brain and mourning her infantized intellect when she feels Bean pat her on the shoulder.
Bean: "That's OK Mommy. There doesn't have to be anything else in your head. Blues clues is good. I like Blue's clues."
Mommy: (Completely panicked now, still thinking, racking her brain for something not child related) "Wait, just give me a second sweetie, there really is something else in there."
Bean: "You could sing me a song Mommy."
Mommy gasps. It's there! Whitman! Oh Walt, you didn't desert me!
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong...
She recites the poem to Bean and he just stares at her. He seems to only register the words 'mechanic', 'carpenter', 'boatman' and 'wood cutter'.
Bean: "What did you say? Can you tell me the story about the mechanic again, and then sing Blue Clues again please Mommy?"
Mommy: (Feeling much better about the whole thing she makes a mental note that she needs to get some of the old college poetry collections out so she can brush up and avoid another intellectual close call.) "Yes, mechanic poem first, then Blues Clues. It would be my pleasure."