We were en route to the optician to replace the son's glasses. He does a superb job of breaking them. Frequently. And he wears contacts most of the time.
I started whistling Muse's "Hysteria." Not that I was feeling particularly hysterical. It's just been running through my head.
(Another story entirely. Not in any way related to Muse.)
The daughter joined in.
The son sighed.
"Just so long as it's not 'Small World,'" he said.
In perfect harmony and with no preliminaries, the daughter and I began to sing loudly in unison:
"It's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small, small world!"
Go listen to some music: "It's a Small World (After All)," written by Richard and Robert Sherman. When I left the studio for another division, my VP told me gravely, "You know they play 'Small World' all day long on the PA, don't you?" As to the other, read the lyrics. No, not "Small World."