Hello My Baby

I can't remember precisely the first time I saw this little cartoon.  But I'm sure it was in my childhood---and it has stuck with me for some thirty odd years.  I can so relate to the guy with his dancing frog that only dances for him and him alone---and whenever he tries to share this marvel.....ribbit.  It's such an awesome metaphor for so many things.  Have you ever known someone who only acted a certain way in front of you---so that if you ever expressed your discomfort about being around said individual---everyone thought you were crazy.  Because as far as anyone else can tell--that individual was perfectly nice and civil at all times.  Ribbit.  When I played the flute in my high school band and in a college ensemble as well---there was a well known joke among musicians about broken or finicky instruments.  A key might stick---or an obtrusive and inadvertent squeak might emit from a properly played instrument---but such things only happen during rehearsals or at home----and never at the repair shop.  When the repairman goes to play your instrument---everything is just fine and dandy thank you very much.  Ribbit.  Until you get back home, that is---and the same problem you already knew existed---comes right back to haunt you once more.  "Hello, my baby---hello my honey...."  Today it comes to mind---because as Miriam's napping--I'm running some laundry---and doing some housecleaning---and every once in a while---I hear her just wail on the monitor---so I take off running into her room---and find her sleeping peacefully---her face as tranquil and calm as still waters on a cloudless day.  Ribbit.  So then---I get nervous and poke her.  Squeak--still alive and kicking.  And I go on with my business.  

Oh yeah---and just in case you want to watch the whole clip---so that you too can think to yourself:  Ribbit whenever this kind of thing happens to you (which it invariably will----c'est la vie! )---here's the link:http://youtu.be/NRnX4quv5W4