When I'm happy, I sing. Since Scout makes me happy, I often sing when with her and often about her. The songs are improvised on the spot, sometimes following popular tunes but often to harmonies I just make up. The whole process is pretty unconscious and most times, if you ask me to repeat a song I sang ten minutes ago, I can't.
Dave seems to enjoy these little diddies. This has encouraged me to sing them even more and even louder. But I hadn't realized I was singing them outside our abode until this morning.
While returning from a walk and approaching my apartment I was singing a song that consisted of the following lyrics: "Poopy brain. Little Scout's got poopy in her little pinhead"* The initial "poopy" was an elongated "pooooooopy." I was looking down at my keys and failed to notice my brand new neighbor walking towards us. I belted "poopy in her little pinhead" quite enthusiastically only to look up and lock eyes with the neighbor, who was now face to face. It was too late to recover; I put my head down and hummed the rest of the melody as I quickly headed up the stairs to my apartment.
*I never said the songs were good
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