Do you remember what it was like to be in a school playground on the first day of the month?
When you were a child, dummy, not the flippin’ teacher!
All together now
And some horrible kid would pinch your arm, thump you in a place where bruises don’t show, yell the usual sadistic rhyme (“Pinch, punch, first of the month – and no returns”) and run away before you could hit them back.
You then had to find your own victim, who repeated this dreaded formula until all the kids would be black and blue – and yelling for their mothers.
It’s a bit like being hit over the emails by blogs such as this, trying to encourage you to do the right thing – and book that cruise.
As if I would dream…
But time waits for no prospective passenger, and some of you will be thinking of sailing off for a break at sea.
And you don’t really need me to pummel and pinch you to help you make up your mind.
A rhyme a day
Talking of which (the mind, not the cruise), every now and then, the following rhyme pops into my head:
Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November;
All the rest have thirty-one,
Save February, with twenty-eight days clear,
And twenty-nine each leap year.
It reminds me how much longer there is to go, until autumn comes round next year. Or Christmas. Or that cruise I have long been promising myself. Or to get on with my life.
It was just one of the following nursery rhymes that stuck in my head from childhood, which sort of went like this:
Eeny, meeny, miny mo,
Catch a sailor by his toe:
If he hollers, let him go,
Book a cruise, don’t be slow.
Hold up your head,
Turn out your toes,
Speak when you’re spoken to,
Put on your clothes (the Captain’s coming).
The waves do shake and ship bells do ring,
So merrily comes our harvest in,
Our harvest in, our harvest out,
So merrily comes our sea cruisin’.
Oh that I were
Where I would be,
Then would I be
Where I am not;
But where I am
There must I be,
And where I would be
I can not.
Yeah. You’ve guessed it. I’m obviously in need of a long cruise…or a trip to the shrink.
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