When I started talking, several years ago, Mommy decided that I should earn my keep. After all, there were apples and carrots and peas and corn and tacos and french fries (oops, I'm not allowed to have those anymore! ;) to be purchased on a weekly basis. And, of course, let's not forget to mention the all-important toys!!! . . .

Mommy had grandiose dreams of me starring in TV commercials, hitting the talk-show circuit, and eventually making it all the way to the big screen.


Her first attempt to make me a star involved what she called 'The Bologna Song'. . .


"Oscar Meyer has a way with B O L O G N A!" . . .


She sang it to me each morning when we took our shower. She sang it when she worked at home. She sang it while she cooked our dinners (Daddy's and mine). Apparently, Mommy doesn't have a very good singing voice, and Daddy started shutting the windows to avoid embarrassment.


When I mastered the 'Oscar' part with ease, Mommy thought I showed true promise! "You're going to make us rich, Lucy! Hello WORK FROM HOME!!!"


As the weeks progressed, I added bits and pieces to my rendition of 'The Bologna Song'. Mommy was sure I could do it, and placed every ounce of her faith in me. But after months of practice, I'd made up my mind, and my final version of Mommy's grand money-making scheme equated to:


"Oscar B O A"


To add to Mommy's great disappointment, she noticed a strange coincidence. Mommy's taught me all about different animals and the sounds they make. I love telling Mommy, for instance:


"And the puppy goes . . ruff ruff!"


"And the kitty goes . . meeeeeeeooooooow!"


"And the chicken goes . . bach bach buck buck!"


"And the frog goes . . "



Dead silence. For some reason I absolutely refuse to say "Ribbit ribbit!". So I start the sentence out, "And the frog goes . . ", and Mommy has to finish it with "Ribbit ribbit!".


The really strange thing is that as soon as Mommy goes, "Ribbit ribbit!", I sing my rendition of the 'Bologna Song'!


"What the heck do frogs have to do with bologna?!", she'd exclaim.


Sorry Mommy. My lips are sealed. And . . . a word of advice: "Don't quit your day job!"