I think I am a bad mother.

I do not like to sing with my child and she loves to sing all.day.long. And I do mean ALL.DAY.LONG.

So we're sitting in the car driving and she says, "Mommy, will you sing a song with me?" She might as well have said, "Mommy, I want to grow up to be like Madonna." After my eyes had rolled around in my head a couple of times, I finally answered her.

"What do you want to sing, sweetheart?"

"Old McDonald's" (and yes, she says McDonald's - plural - like the restaurant, which she thinks is owned by the farmer himself)

Now, "Old McDonald" is the most dreaded song in her repertoire. She does not just name the animals that might possibly reside on the McDonald farm, she names all the things AROUND the farm.

"And on that farm he had some..." grass, houses, airplanes. Holy Cow (no pun intended) - I didn't realize Donald Trump was a farmer!

So you can imagine my frustration. But, I'm trying to be a good mother, so I indulge her.

"Ok," I say. "I'll sing it one time." Of course, that one time can last until kingdom come, but for the sake of keeping the peace I clear my throat and dive in.

Seventeen stanzas later (and half my hair pulled out from the frustration) she ends the farm song. "GOOD GOD," I say to myself. How could one person love Old McDonald so much! I don't even think Mrs. McDonald likes him that much. Sheesh.

And just when I thought we were all done, I hear a little voice, "This old man, he played one...."

Here we go again.