The een-sie win-see spi-der went up the waterspout….
I’m not sure I spelled it right–those baby words are always phonetically a challenge for me. It had been so long since I had heard the song or sung it. My mother used to take her slender fingers and transform them into the little spider and then sprinkle the rain, then make the sun and then turn them back into a spider again. The first few times I sang it to my foster son, I dropped a line and lost some of the words. He of course didn’t know any better. At just under two years old, he digs the song regardless of how bad I muck up the lyrics. I sat on the bed and put him on my lap, our faces just a few inches apart. In my soft but slightly creaky voice I began to sing. And like my mother I made the little spider appear between us, then the rain and the sun, then the spider again, my fingers not nearly as delicate but certainly sufficient to play the part. His face was fixed on my mouth as I sang, like I was playing a beautiful instrument. His eyes lit and his smile seemed to grow as the rain came down, and as the spider got washed away–swishhhhhhh–he giggled. Then the spider made his second and final assent up the water spout and when the song ended he erupted in a chorus of applause and “yeahs”. Somehow what he is able to impart–this little imp of a boy–is so weighty and makes me so full, it allows me to forget the stress in my head, changes my outlook on life, and enables me to be kind to people. And I love him for it.