Before I go any further, I want to let you know that “aunt,” when used to refer to me, is pronounced “ant,” or perhaps even “a-yunt.” My people are from Texas. We don’t say “ahnt.”

Shortly before my family came to visit last week, Melanie wrote about asking Max to spell his name.

With a straight face, he responded, “M.A.W.” I laughed and said, “Max, that’s silly. How do you spell your name?” He replied, “M.A.X.Y.Z.” And then he burst into song: “Now I know my ABC’s. Next time won’t you sing with me!”

Reading this, I laughed, too. Then I started to think about ways I might amuse Max and encourage that quirky sense of humor he’s developing. After all, I am the aunt who, over Christmas, taught Max that it’s funny to turn a common children’s rhyming-game-with-toes on its, um, ear. The first time that I suggested that a piggie might be going somewhere other than to market, Max responded, “Noooooooo,” in such a way as to suggest that I had gone all the way ’round the bend. However, he found this craziness funny, and within a couple of days was happily participating in a revisionist history of piggiedom:

This little piggie went to the grocery store.

This little piggie stayed in the car.

This little piggie ate french fries.

This little piggie had some, too.

And this little piggie cried boogaduh-boogaduh-BOOGADUH

all the way home.

For some reason, when Melanie mentioned Max’s playing around with the spelling of his name, I thought about spelling it backwards. What would he think if I told him I spelled his name X.A.M.? This led me to consider turning the ABC song backwards, with a special made-for-Max twist at the end:

Z. Y. X. W. V. U. T.

S. R. Q. P. O-N-M-L-K.

J. I. H., G. F. E., D and C, B and A

Now I know my Z-Y-X’s. Isn’t that how you sing it in Texas?

I practiced it a couple of times – one certainly doesn’t want to blow it in front of a 3-year-old – and had it ready to sing for Max.

The song was a hit. I was made to sing it multiple times each of several days, particularly when we were in the rented minivan, and Max was a booster-seat-captive audience. After getting a bit bored with just the ZYX song, I would sometimes sing the straight ABC song, but change the last line from “Next time won’t you sing with me” to “Sing it backwards, if you please,” and then launch into Z.Y.X.etc.

It is, perhaps, not surprising that my song had an effect on Max’s version of the alphabet song. He was particularly taken with the reference to Texas, and modified the ABC song he already knew:

A. B. C. D. E. F. Texas.

H. I. J. K. L-M-N-O-Texas.

Q. R. S., T. U. Texas, W. X. Y. and Texas.

Now I know my Texas song. Next time won’t you sing it in Texas.

(Won’t his new nursery school teacher be surprised…)

The day before my family left to go home, Max and my mother were looking at a plant. He told her that the leaves were yellow, and the flowers green.

“Max,” she asked, “are you being backwards?”

He replied, “Yes. Backwards like Aunt Kimberly.”

At least he didn’t mean what most Texans do when they refer to someone as backwards.