Last night while we prepared for bed, Devilboy pointed to the sheep in his book and declared happily. “My did seen a sheep!”
And he had indeed seen a sheep, at a children’s farm, just a few weekend ago.
ME: Where did you see the sheep?
DB: At the farm.
ME: That’s right, at the farm. What else did you see at the farm?
DB: My see piggy.
ME: Yes, you saw a piggy. What else?
DB: My see moo cow.
ME: And what else?
DB: My see goose.
ME: And what else.
DB: My see Ahmed.
DB: Yes, Ahmed.
ME: Who’s Ahmed?
DB: Ahmed! Ahmed!
ME: Who’s Ahmed???
DB: Ahmed, mummy. Ahmed Donald had a farm, eei oh!
So now I’m visualising an orange-bearded farmer wearing a kilt and a keffiyeh, smoking a habibi while he looks after his flock!
I am also counting my blessings that my son attends a childcare centre with such a wonderfully diverse cultural balance that he’d come up with this rather sweet interpretation of the old standard.