I feel like I am teaching her about an entirely unrealistic, ridiculous and actually quite gruesome world. I mean, I have to skip goosey gander as I just can't make light of chucking an old man down the stairs because of his religious beliefs. I sometimes add a small disclaimer at the end of these kind of rhymes, although I don't think Boo finds them quite as entertaining as I do, and I wonder if other parents are so cynical. Reading nursery rhymes because I have to gives me the same guilty feeling I know I will get when I have to invent Santa Claus. The peer pressure and her beaming smile makes me do it, but it's all lies!
Could life resemble the disparity and hopelessness of a nursery rhyme in Boo's generation? What can we do? Are these rhymes helpful? Maybe they were to the mothers who first sang them, so aware yet so powerless to the random unfairness, with a baby in their arms, it gives me the shivers.