The Awful Fate of Old McDonald


Like his parents, Daniel likes to listen to a lot of different music.  However, he still likes “the classics”.  I’m not talking about Elvis or the Beatles.  I’m not even talking about Beethoven and Bach.  I’m talking Old School.  I’m talking Pre-School.  I’m talking “Old McDonald”.  As you may recall, Old McDonald owned a farm.  The song documents all of the animals living on said farm and the sounds they make.  Meka and I have been singing “Old McDonald” to Daniel since he was an infant.  He joined in around the age of two.  It was a hit from the very beginning.

“Again!  Again!” he would shout and laugh and clap.  So, we’d continue the chronicles of Old McDonald, adding animals more and more exotic.  On long trips, Old McDonald’s Farm grew to the size of a small European nation and held more species than Noah’s Ark.  And on this farm, he had an amoeba… E-I-E-I-O.

I don’t know exactly when Meka and I snapped, but I’ve noticed Old McDonald has strayed away from the traditional pursuit of farming in recent months.

Old McDonald had a farm.
E-I-E-I-O.
He sold that farm and bought a yacht.
E-I-E-I-O.

And over the weekend, on the road between Cherry Valley and Belvidere, poor Old McDonald finally bought the farm.

And on this farm he had a T-Rex.
E-I-E-I-O.
It ate all the animals, spit out the bones.
Ate Old McDonald and then it was alone.
Old McDonald had a farm.
E-I-E-I-O.

Daniel clapped and laughed until he fell over in the backseat, gasping for air.  I admit I had a good chuckle over Old McDonald’s demise myself, but we sent him off in royal fashion with a resounding E-I-E-I-O.

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One comment

  1. […] The Awful Fate of Old McDonald by  Bob Francis  Posted on Tuesday, October 28, 2008.     Like his parents, Daniel likes to listen to a lot of different music.  However, he still likes “the classics”.  I’m not talking about Elvis or the Beatles.  I’m not even talking about Beethoven and Bach.  I’m talking Old School.  I’m talking Pre-School.  I’m talking “Old McDonald”.       As you may recall, Old McDonald owned a farm.  The song documents all of the animals living on said farm and the sounds they make.  Meka and I have been singing “Old McDonald” to Daniel since he was an infant.  He joined in around the age of two.  It was a hit from the very beginning.     “Again!  Again!” he would shout and laugh and clap.  So, we’d continue the chronicles of Old McDonald, adding animals more and more exotic.  On long trips, Old McDonald’s Farm grew to the size of a small European nation and held more species than Noah’s Ark.           And on this farm, he had an amoeba… E-I-E-I-O.     I don’t know exactly when Meka and I snapped, but I’ve noticed Old McDonald has strayed away from the traditional pursuit of farming in recent months. Old McDonald had a farm. E-I-E-I-O. He sold that farm and bought a yacht. E-I-E-I-O.     And over the weekend, on the road between Cherry Valley and Belvidere, poor Old McDonald finally bought the farm. And on this farm he had a T-Rex. E-I-E-I-O. It ate all the animals, spit out the bones. Ate Old McDonald and then it was alone. Old McDonald had a farm. E-I-E-I-O.     Daniel clapped and laughed until he fell over in the backseat, gasping for air.  I admit I had a good chuckle over Old McDonald’s demise myself, but we sent him off in royal fashion with a resounding          E-I-E-I-O.   […]

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