Here's what the fox says: shut the f*ck up

India is teething, which means a lot of 2:00 am screaming, which then necessitates shuffling down the hall to her room and rocking and patting and shuffling back down the hall and not being able to fall back asleep.

And so there I am, lying in bed wondering what the fox says.

You'd think I'd be able to sing that damn song start to finish by now, but I get confused about which animals are in which order.

Nick has no patience for the song anymore, but I am telling you, it keeps my descamisados happy.

We regularly have dance parties to The Fox. Everyone likes to dance.

Or we can be having a screaming meltdown on the sidewalk over the tragic fact that we are WALKING IN THE DIRECTION SOMEONE DOES NOT WANT TO BE WALKING, LIKE HOME AND NOT THE PARK or fighting over a found acorn or who knows what but it is TRAGIC. And no amount of logic or silly walking can fix it.

And so I'll pull out my phone and say, "Hey! You guys! What does the fox say?"

And then I'll find the video and start it and there I am, the Pied Piper, followed by suddenly cooperative little minions, eyes focused, mouths closed, arms outstretched.

That's worth a hell of a lot of gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding! to me.