Splish Splash

We have a mouse in the house. Correction: We had a mouse in the house. Although I am glad that our uninvited guest is gone, I wish he had chosen a less dramatic exit.

About a week ago, we had a terrible rain storm. It rained buckets all day long and into the night. The ceiling in the boys' room had leaked in the past, and despite the fact that our 75-year-old, spry yet scarecrow-built landlord climbed up on the roof during a tornado warning to fix the leak a few weeks ago, I still had my ears open for that dreaded dripping sound. (Stick with me... we'll get to the mouse.)

I went to sleep almost immediately upon my head hitting the pillow that night, but was awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of water. In my semi-conscious state, I assumed it was the boys' ceiling and tried to will it to stop so that I wouldn't have to climb out of bed and find a bucket. I slowly entered a more awake state and realized that the sound was awfully loud to be water dripping in the boys' room. The sound would have to travel down the hall and through two closed doors. Plus, the sound of the furnace muffled much of the sound outside the room.

Now, I was awake (but still refusing to open my eyes). What could it be? I realized the sound was coming from around Frodo's side of the bed. That corner of the room is where the addition containing the master bedroom meets the main part of the house. Many homes in the South, including ours (I have no idea why) do not have rain gutters, so I concluded that water must be running down the joint in the roof and splashing into a pool of water on the ground outside. Yes, that had to be it. I settled in and tried to go back to sleep.

But it sounds awfully loud to be coming from outside. Maybe there's a leak in our ceiling?! I was now completely awake - eyes open and everything - but I couldn't see in the dark. I grabbed my reading light (the kids keep wandering off with my in-case-of-emergency flashlights) and crept to Frodo's side of the bed. When I got to the nightstand, I realized that the sound was coming from the nightstand and illuminated the surface and found this:



Apparently, our uninvited guest had climbed the nightstand and Frodo's pile of reading material in search of a drink and got a little more than he bargained for.

So, we are now mouseless (for now) and our mouser (who lives outside because of Frodo's allergies) required a little less breakfast than usual the morning after our great adventure.

Yes, Minister... Mr. Secretary... Mr. President

Not sure whether to laugh or cry. Maybe we can take comfort in the fact that at least we're not alone... nope, still leaning towards crying... or at least fist-pounding. (And I'm definitely laughing. This is great stuff. Gotta love British sitcoms.)



If you've never seen the British television series Yes, Minister and Yes, Prime Minister, I highly recommend them. You are missing quite a treat.

HT: Consent of the Governed - thanks for the reminder)

Fly on the Wall

Terzo: Mom, can we do that game where you read me stuff, and I write stuff?

Me: Um, what?

Terzo: You know, that game where you read me stuff out of that book, and I have a pencil and a piece of paper and write stuff you tell me. Then you take a red pen and write some of the things I wrote wrong right, so I have to write them again, but when I get them right, you use the red pen to write big C's next to them then you hug me! Can we play that game? Please!

Me: You mean a spelling test? Sure, I can give you a spelling test.

Terzo: Yay! I like the spelling test game!

Stinkin' English

English can be a difficult language to figure out the spelling rules for. A couple days ago, the girls hit a pluralizing review and Terzo hit the "i before e" rule on the same day. Listening to Frodo review plurals and witnessing Terzo's frustration reminded me of this sketch my Brian Regan. Enjoy!

Ponderings

This evening Frodo and Primo discussed the following deep philosophical question: If each member of our family was a cartoon character, who would they be? Here are their conclusions:

Frodo - Mike Wazowski (from Monster's Inc.)

Me - Pacha's wife, Chicha (from The Emperor's New Groove)


Primo - Squirt (from Finding Nemo)


Secondo - Egghead, Jr. (from the Foghorn Leghorn Loony Tunes)
In case you have no idea who Egghead, Jr. is, watch the video below.

Terzo - Linus (from Peanuts)


Quarto - Calvin (from Calvin and Hobbes)

So, if you were a cartoon character, who would you be?

Avast! Grab yer eyepatches and a grog of yer finest ale!

Ahoy, Mateys! It's Talk Like a Pirate Day!

Let me introduce ya t' the crew of the Hades' Deceit:
(Landlubber names are first, in case yer feelin' a bit shaky from the ale. Arrrrr!)

Frodo: "Fancypants" Sid Dawkins
Tutor: Dancin' Agnes Cooke
Primo: Jelly Legs Lindsey
Secondo: Rough-Sailin' Jasmine
Terzo: Epileptic Bobby Barbossa

And our venerable captain:

Quarto: Cap't Quincy Cannonbait

Still usin' yer sissy landlubber name, are ya? Then get yer sea legs over here t' get yer pirate name.

Forgot the name of yer ship? Happens t' the best of pirates! Cap't Cannonbait never leaves without his trusty sextant! Arrr! Ya got me off on a tale, and I lost me point... Ah! Ships! That's right! If'n ya need t' find yer ship, go here.

Need t' brush up on yer pirate lingo? There's classes here.

I need t' be shovin' off. Big day here on the Hades' Deceit... we got diet soda and mentos t' be settin' off.

Ebay as Therapy

Frodo and I have sold a few things on Ebay (bought a few more that we sold, unfortunately.) I guess you could call the removal of extraneous items from our lives for a financial reward therapy, but seller dawnm5723 has made Ebay therapy an art with this listing.

To dawnm5723: Sweetie (I can say "Sweetie" 'cause I live in the South now), I hear ya. I've been there. You're my hero.

Fly on the Wall

I was snuggling on my bed with Terzo and Quarto yesterday morning when Terzo sighed and said in his adorable, six-year-old sage tone, "Mommy, I'm glad I'm not a girl."

"Oh yeah. How come?"

"'Cause I don't want to grow up and have to poop babies out of my butt."

Sigh.

What did he say?

Frodo called home during his lunch break today. "Don't forget that I'm leaving early to go to the dentist. Oh, and I'm going to stop at Goodwill on my way home to pee on my van."

Me: "What?! Pee on your van?"

Frodo: Long period of hysterical laughter, then, "No. EMPTY my van."

Me: "Oh, I was wondering why you were alerting me in advance to your insane behavior." (more hysterical laughter)

Thinkers Anonymous

It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then - to loosen up, I guess. Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.

Gradually, I began to think alone - "to relax," I told myself - though deep inside I knew it wasn't true.

Thinking became more and more important to me. After a while, I was thinking all the time. I began thinking at work too. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, but I couldn't help myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime. I would sneak off and read Kafka and Thoreau. I would return to the office noticeably confused and asking things like "what is it, exactly, we are doing here??"

Things weren't going so great at home either. One evening I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. Needless to say, she spent that night at her mother's.

I soon had a reputation as a heavy thinker. One day the boss called me into his office. "I like you," he said "and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, I'll have to let you go."

This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I confessed "I have been thinking."

"I know you have been thinking," she said "and I want a divorce!"

"But honey, surely it's not that serious."

"It is serious" she said, her low lip aquiver. "You think as much as a college professor, and college professors don't make any money! If you don't stop thinking we are sure to wind up in the poor-house!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently. She began to cry. I'd had enough. "I'm going to the library!" I snarled as I stomped out of the house. I headed straight for the library with my appetite whetted for some Nietzsche. I almost hit a pedestrian as I franticly roared into the parking lot. I ran up to the glass doors, but to my horror, they didn't open. I sank to the ground, cursing the uncaring glass entrance, and whimpering for Zarathustra. Just then a poster caught my eye. It read: "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?"

You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinkers Anonymous poster.

Which is why I am what I am today - a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was a Vin Diesel film. Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting. I still have my job. And things are a lot better at home. Life just seems easier, somehow, ever since I quit thinking.

(Frodo received this as an email. I do not know who to credit for it, but whoever you are, "Well done!")

Fly on the Wall

Last night we were sitting in the truck in the church parking lot waiting for Cub Scouts to start... I misread the clock, rushed everyone to get ready, helped Terzo prepare his "endangered species" report in 5 minutes, rushed everyone through supper, and got to the church 45 minutes early, sigh. I had all four munchkins with me because Frodo had to coach a baseball game (story for another day). The kids asked to be let-loose in the truck while we waited and proceeded to find ways to amuse themselves while I pretended that I meant to get to the church that early and updated my calendar, and read through the Usborne Illustrated Dictionary of Biology and What Are Food Chains and Webs? (the boys were making food chain posters at the meeting), and cleaned the truck, and...


At some point the kids became involved in some kind of game and their volume began creeping to ear-bleeding levels, so I told them that they needed to settle down. Quarto, always last to "settle" yelled, "A pie, Dummo!" Now, we've been having problems with Quarto and name calling, so whipped around and asked him to repeat himself. "I said, 'A pie, Dummo!'" he repeated, with both hands held up above his head. I told him that I didn't know where he learned that word (Dummo?) but that it wasn't polite even in joking and told him not to say it anymore. "Okay, Mom," he complied.

After I turned around, the kids resumed their game, and Quarto began pleading, "Me too! Do me! A pie, Dummo!" I broke out laughing and turned around to instruct the older kids that if they are going to teach their younger brother to play a game, they need to teach him to pronounce the accompanying words correctly. Primo said, "Quarto, it's like this: 'Up high. Down low. Too slow!'"

Poem - Rain by Shel Shilverstein

I have loved Shel Silverstein's poetry since I was a kid. I think that between my sister and I, we had every book he had written. I had the pleasure of watching my kids fall in love with Shel Silverstein's writing a few weeks ago when we borrowed the audio book of Runny Babbit: A Billy Sook from our library. This new book was compiled from writings found among the work he left behind after his death in 1999. It takes a little getting used to hearing it since the poems are written as a series of spoonerisms (I can't imagine having to read them), but once we got used to it, we all just howled. If you would like to play around with Shel Silverstein's poetry, head on over to his website. There are animated poems and fun games to play. Oh. You're kids might like it, too.

I selected this poem because it just seems to fit the aimlessness of my day today. I can't seem to stay focused. I must have a leak in my brain that let the rain in.

Rain
by Shel Silverstein

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the shishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

Fly on the Wall

Yesterday at Secondo's standardized testing:
Secondo emerged from the testing room, and I asked her how she thought she did. She said she thought that she did okay but that the math was hard. "You know the minusing with the two dots? Well, I figured that since minusing without dots is the opposite of adding, then minusing with dots must be opposite of multiplying, so I think I got that one right. It was six minus with two dots two. That's three, right?"

(Like I mentioned yesterday, we changed her math curriculum half-way through the year, so there are some topics that she had had multiple times and a few she hasn't had at all yet... like division. LOL!)


This morning while getting dressed:
Terzo- "Hey! It's St. Fool's Day!"


This morning during the sermon:
Quarto was sitting on Frodo's lap during the service this morning. In his sermon, our pastor was preaching on John 12; more specifically on Mary anointing Jesus' feet with perfume. The pastor was explaining that at the time, expensive perfumes were kept in alabaster boxes that would be broken open then could not be resealed. Quarto was listening and asked Frodo, "Boxes?" Frodo explained that Mary opened a box and a beautiful scent came out. Quarto responded with a contented sigh, "Mmmm, pepperoni pizza."

DST Survival

Since I am not a morning person, I was able to completely sympathize with Angel's feelings in her post on her adjustment (or lack thereof) to the time change. This year, however, I discovered a foolproof way to force myself to get in line:

1. Sign your hubby up as the ONLY usher at your church's 8am service on DST's "spring forward" Sunday.

2. Make sure you can't leave immediately after the 8am service by signing both of you up to team-teach the 2 and 3yo Sunday School class.

3. Make sure your "adult helper" for said Sunday School class doesn't adjust well to DST and thus doesn't show up.

4. Make sure that 75% of kids in the 2 & 3yo SS class are boys.

5. When you finally go home, remember that you saved all of your prep for your Sunday evening Kid's Club class to the last minute.

6. Spend an hour creating a coloring page for the 5th commandment (you'll find out later that you are supposed to be teaching the 6th commandment, but that is irrelevant to your task of DST adjustment).

7. Finish prep just when your adrenaline high is at its peak so that you can't take a nap no matter how hard you try.

8. Go to teach a 2 hour Kid's Club class at church... again of 2 and 3 year olds.

9. Make sure 75% of those kids are boys.

10. Make sure at least one of those boys did not adjust well to DST and didn't nap so that he is really, really grumpy and has to spend the majority of the two hours being physically held in time out.

11. Have at least three families arrive 20 minutes late to pick up their kids... one of these must be the family of the aforementioned grumpy 2yo.

12. Have a gallant dh who offers to take the trash to the dumpster.

13. Sit in the car while your dh wrestles with the new lock on the dumpster before finally deciding to just take the trash home to put in your own can.

14. Go home and crash.

15. Wake up twice with 3yo son screaming "He stole my cereal!" while having a nightmare about grumpy 2yo in his Kid's Club class (send dh to take care of him, of course).

16. Wake up three more times with a stomach bug.

17. Have dh wake you up at 8am with a bowl of tea (it looks like a large mug and has a handle, but let's face it, it's a bowl), cinnamon toast and the reminder that he has the day off.

Trust me... works like a charm!

Partly cloudy, chance of rain 40%

I originally posted this one year ago. I had the grand plan of posting a "day in the life" in our homeschool. I haven't attempted it since. Maybe someday, maybe not. I decided to post it today for a couple of reasons:
1. After going through our latest bout of flu, I needed to be reminded that although it seems like our schedule will never recover and we have "lost" a whole week of school, life will regain a semblance of sanity again and life's interruptions are actually wonderful learning opportunities.
2. Nan, the Writer Mom, has been having a this kind of day today, and I wanted to express my sympathy. Nan, been there-done that. Praying for you.

**********

As I was in the school room last night preparing for today, I thought that I would use today’s entry to outline a typical day in our homeschool. Little did I know what I would encounter just moments later.

11:30pm Primo comes downstairs and looks white as a sheet. "Mom, I threw up all over my bed." Get Primo in the shower and go upstairs to ask Frodo to help change her sheets. I should mention at this point that our bedrooms are on the second floor and our only bathroom is on the first floor.

11:43pm Put in a load of laundry.

11:50pm Primo is out of the shower after washing twice and vomiting numerous times. I sit with her to braid her hair (to keep it out of the "line of fire") while she leans over the toilet.

12:00am Primo and Frodo are in bed. I am cleaning the shower and disinfecting everything.

12:30am Finally go to bed.

1:35am Secondo comes in our room. "Mom, I’m going to throw up." I don’t have a bucket and I am still very foggy, so I ask if she can make it to the bathroom. She says yes, so we start downstairs. We make it halfway down. Frodo wakes up and sits with her on the stairs while I gingerly find a safe passage down then clean off the steps.

1:40am Secondo sits in a little chair in front of the toilet while I disinfect the steps. She is amazingly still clean. I braid her hair. Frodo checks on Primo then goes back to bed.

1:55am I begin the search for a second bucket and set up a spot for Secondo on Primo’s bed. It has a plastic cover on the mattress. Put in another load of laundry.

2:15am Secondo finally feels well enough to go back to bed. I disinfect then also go to bed.

2:17am These lyrics begin going through my head as I attempt to sleep (and try to prepare myself for the next "episode"):

I face the dawn with sleepless eyes
No I can't go on
When clouds are pushin' down on me, boy
I can't stop, I can't stop the rain
From fallin

(I have no idea who the artist is... or the last time I heard this song)

3:00am Primo calls from the other room, "Quarto just threw up in his crib!" (I should mention at this point that our children all share one large room a la the nursery in Peter Pan.) Frodo follows me in and asks, "What do you want... kid or crib?" I pick crib. We strip Quarto down to his diaper and Frodo takes him to the tub. I strip the sheets.

3:10am Put in another load of laundry. Change the sheet and disinfect the crib.

3:23am Check on Frodo and Quatro. Frodo tells me to go to bed; he’s going to stay up a bit. I go happily.

4:17am Hear Primo in other room getting sick then going downstairs. "Do you need anything?" "No, just cleaning out my bucket and going to the bathroom."

4:18am I toss and turn for who knows how long.

5:05am Terzo wakes up yelling, "Mom! I’m bleeding!" I go running in to find he has a pretty good bloody nose. We determine that it is not as bad as it looks and that only his pjs and pillow are dirty.

5:10am Tell Quarto to go back to sleep then take Terzo downstairs to finish cleaning up.

5:13am Frodo comes downstairs asking if he should call in sick to work. I tell him it is up to him. I can handle the kids if the girls stay in bed all day, but that if it starts raining frogs, he needs to come home. He agrees and goes back to bed.

5:20am Get Terzo back in his bed and head to my own. Primo sees me and asks sweetly, "I’m sorry to bother you, Mom, but since you’re already up could you wash out my bucket? I threw up a few more times, but I didn’t want to make you go up and down the stairs any more." I happily take the bucket (yes, happily... surprised even myself) and clean it out.

5:24am Collapse into bed.

6:29am Frodo’s alarm goes off.

6:38am Frodo’s alarm goes off.

6:47am Frodo’s alarm goes off.

6:52am Terzo comes in saying it is morning and asks if he can go downstairs. I tell him to go play a video game and that Frodo will put a movie on for him when he comes downstairs. Frodo grumbles something. Terzo leaves, but on his way out asks if I can make biscuits and gravy for breakfast. I suppress laughter (surprise? anger?) and tell him that we will have cereal.

6:56am Frodo’s alarm goes off. Frodo gets up and tries to remember where he left his clothes out.

7:12am Terzo comes upstairs and asks when I am getting up. I tell him he needs to be patient today since everyone is sick and I didn’t get much sleep. He says it is hard to be patient but he’ll try. I assume he goes downstairs and doze off.

7:14am Open my eyes to see Terzo pacing back and forth next to my bed. I ask him to sit and wait for my alarm to go off. He grabs a sewing toy from the floor and perches himself on my sewing box. He asks (optimistically and sheepishly), "Are you sure we can’t have biscuits for breakfast?" I assure him we can’t and go to sleep.

8:30am My alarm goes off. Terzo immediately announces that it is 41.8 degrees outside. I glance at the thermometer in front of the window and confirm that this is the case... and that it is not raining frogs.

**********
The next day's post was as follows:

Today's Lessons:

1. Differences between antibacterial soap and Germ-X

2. How to disinfect a surface.

3. How germs are spread.

4. Why you should eat bland food when you are nauseous.

5. How to improvise when you run out of sheets.

6. How to do the laundry.

7. How to serve others.

8. How to be patient.

9. God is in control... even when it isn't raining frogs.

**********

My utmost respect and comrade re to the person(s) who knows where I got the title for this post from. Leave your guess in the comments section. I will post the answer there later.

Too Funny To Correct

Did your kid ever say something improperly, but you didn't correct him right away because his mis-speak was just too, stinkin' entertaining? That's what's happening to poor Quarto. He is the only kid on the planet that thinks those big, yellow machines that push dirt around on construction sites is called a butt-dozer.

We'll correct him eventually (we've actually tried, but for some reason he doesn't take us seriously when we try to correct him while laughing hysterically)... for now, we are just going to enjoy the free entertainment.

Not on the Test

Here is a song that was aired on NPR's Morning Edition on January 1st. To listen, click here.

Not on the Test
by John Forster & Tom Chapin ~ copyright 2007 Limosine Music Co. & The Last Music Co. (ASCAP)

Go on to sleep now, third grader of mine.
The test is tomorrow but you'll do just fine.
It's reading and math. Forget all the rest.
You don't need to know what is not on the test.

Each box that you mark on each test that you take,
Remember your teachers. Their jobs are at stake.
Your score is their score, but don't get all stressed.
They'd never teach anything not on the test.

The School Board is faced with no child left behind
With rules but no funding, they're caught in a bind.
So music and art and the things you love best
Are not in your school 'cause they're not on the test.

Sleep, sleep, and as you progress
You'll learn there's a lot that is not on the test.

Debate is a skill that is useful to know,
Unless you're in Congress or talk radio,
Where shouting and spouting and spewing are blessed
'Cause rational discourse was not on the test.

Thinking's important. It's good to know how.
And someday you'll learn to, but someday's not now.
Go on to sleep, now. You need your rest.
Don't think about thinking. It's not on the test.


HT: Why Homeschool

Move Over Charlie Brown

Our living room is small. We have always had small living rooms. Thus, we have developed a Christmas tradition of two trees. One in the living room (this is the "formal tree" with the pretty crystal, china and glass ornaments that looks all 'grown up' when it is decorated) and one in either the play room or the kids' bedroom (this one has the kids' ornaments, paper chains and popcorn strings). We had to replace our living room tree last year when our basement flooded and ruined our old tree that was stored down there. This year, we have to replace the kids' tree because it just plain-old broke.

I took Primo out to Wally World with me yesterday and went tree shopping. We looked through the trees on display then headed off down the aisle where the tree boxes are kept. There we found a boxed set of three "spruce" trees of various sizes (4', 3' and 2') that we hadn't seen in the display area... this should have been our first clue. We decided these would be cute in the playroom and would give each of the older kids thier own tree to decorate as they wished. Primo promptly offered that since her and Secondo's trees were bigger than Terzo's they would let Quarto put his ornaments on thier trees. Who could reject such harmony and Christmas spirit? We grabbed a box off the shelf, and Primo carried it to the checkout... this should have been my second clue.

As the kids were taking their baths last night, I decided to set up their trees as a surprise so that they could ooh and aah over them before bed then spend this afternoon after church decorating them. I opened the box and pulled out the first little tree. It had a very cute, wooden base... very rustic. I liked it already. I carefully unwrapped the cord to free the top then attempted to insert the top onto the lower section. This took a bit of muscle, but I got it on... and the tree looked terrible. Secondo comes in and squeels, "Yea! The trees!" After looking at it for a minute, she adds, "Maybe it will look better when you fluff it." So I begin fluffing. This tree refused to be fluffed. I thought maybe it was the tree, so I grabbed one of the smaller ones, muscled it together, and began to fluff... in vain. In the meantime, Primo had come in and asked to try the smallest tree. No amount of fluffing, bending, twisting, or grunting got those things to look like anything but pieces of wood with wire stuck with bits of green paper.

Aren't these the saddest excuses for Christmas trees you've ever seen?!

I don't have the patience or compassion level of Charlie Brown, but I do have a receipt. These sorry things are going back to the store tomorrow, and we will find a different tree for the kids.

I think that to find the "perfect" tree, I would have to use a real one, and although I would like a real tree, I have to face reality and admit that I am too lazy to water one. Plus, I have a three year old. If we had a real tree (especially one I wasn't watering), my house would look like Toddler Chainsaw Massacre. ("There are needles and sap everywhere! Oh, the humanity!") That said, I have to agree with the poet, Joyce Kilmer, only God can make a tree (especially one that looks good with Christmas lights and paper chains).

I THINK that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

- Trees by Joyce Kilmer

The Reformation Polka

An entertaining and clever way to learn a short history of the Reformation. Enjoy... but beware, I now can't get the chorus our of my head! (I am impressed that someone could work the word "transubstantiation" into a song... and rhyme it!)

The Reformation Polka
by Robert Gebel

[Sung to the tune of "Supercalifragilistic-expialidocious"]

When I was just ein junger Mann I studied canon law
While Erfurt was a challenge, it was just to please my Pa.
Then came the storm, the lightning struck, I called upon Saint Anne,
I shaved my head, I took my vows, an Augustinian!

Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

When Tetzel came near Wittenberg, St. Peter's profits soared,
I wrote a little notice for the All Saints' Bull'tin board:
"You cannot purchase merits, for we're justified by grace!
Here's 95 more reasons, Brother Tetzel, in your face!"

Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

They loved my tracts, adored my wit, all were exempleror;
The Pope, however, hauled me up before the Emperor.
"Are these your books? Do you recant?" King Charles did demand,
"I will not change my Diet, Sir, God help me here I stand!"

Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Duke Frederick took the Wise approach, responding to my words,
By knighting "George" as hostage in the Kingdom of the Birds.
Use Brother Martin's model if the languages you seek,
Stay locked inside a castle with your Hebrew and your Greek!

Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Let's raise our steins and Concord Books while gathered in this place,
And spread the word that 'catholic' is spelled with lower case;
The Word remains unfettered when the Spirit gets his chance,
So come on, Katy, drop your lute, and join us in our dance!

Oh...

Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

HT: Stepping Heavenward

*short historical note: When Luther wrote his theses and was asked to recant his teachings in front of the Diet of Worms, he was heartbroken and pained... not defiant as this song, and many other sources, suggests. The last thing Luther wanted was to break from the Catholic Church. He loved the Church and wanted to see change within her in areas where he felt she had gone astray (namely, in the paying for indulgences... especially as the Church grew wealthy while its parishoners starved.)