The girls have got so sick of my dumb jokes and punning mutations of their favourite songs that their biggest demand of me at the moment is to play-act a new character they’ve invented for me called Mr Serious.
Mr Serious is a little bit stern, makes no jokes, and after considering the risk of severe dressing-down certainly does not even think of singing that birthday song that goes:
Happy Birthday to you
Squashed bananas and stew
You look like a monkey
And you act like one too…
I wonder if there’s some reverse parenting going on here.