And they called her Mother Goose...

Before I go on I should let you know that people are not sure about the identity of the rhymester (There is such a word! Even though I think it should’ve been rhymist…), if it was even a single person and if that person was female. But I’m just going with the notion that Mother Goose was in fact female.

Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pail of water;
Jack fell down, and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.

Ouch! What was the point of this nursery rhyme? To tell us that potentially thirsty kids would meet a fate like this? I mean it’s good to know that as we were growing up we didn’t have to see a moral in something every time we turned around but you’d think that Mother Goose would know better than to delight children in repeating this over and over.

Bye, baby bunting,
Father's gone a-hunting,
Mother's gone a-milking,
Sister's gone a-silking,
Brother's gone to buy a skin,
To wrap the baby bunting in.

What I want to know is who was looking after baby bunting when they all decided they had to go out at the same time? And MG decided that this was something she wanted to share with the world?

Rock-a-bye, baby,
On the tree top:
When the wind blows,
The cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks,
The cradle will fall;
Down will come baby,
Cradle and all.

Yeah I bet that was real safe. Another good one out of your hat Mother Goose. I think I’m seeing a pattern here. Something against babies perhaps?

If all the seas were one sea,
What a great sea that would be!
If all the trees were one tree,
What a great tree that would be!
If all the axes were one axe,
What a great axe that would be!
If all the men were one man,
What a great man he would be!
And if the great man took the great axe,
And cut down the great tree,
And let it fall into the great sea,
What a great splash-splash that would be!

Yeah let’s all fantasize about a great axe shall we? And cutting the great tree and letting it fall into the great sea to see the great splash-splash… that’s just peachy and… pollution!


Jack be nimble,
And Jack be quick;
And Jack jump over the candlestick.

Yeah Jack. Do that. Don’t worry about if you accidentally kick the candlestick over and where that could take you. Mother Goose obviously knows best.

Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
There came a spider,
And sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.

Stay away from curds and whey. Nice dieting tip but besides that did we all have to go around teasing Miss Muffet about her little incident down through the ages? I feel for you Miss Muffet. My mum’s an arachnophobe too.

Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace;
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go;
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for its living;
But the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

Well lucky me to be born on Sunday this rhyme didn’t haunt me and I actually managed to use this poem to my advantage because my sis on the other hand was born on Wednesday and we can clearly see that that was far from something to take delight in.

But MG did have her good days and on those days she wrote good stuff that I love even to this day.

Like…
Wee Willie Winkie…I’m sorry that that name’s tainted but apart from that it was quite convincing in getting me to bed on time.

One site lists the one that tells you which months have what amount of days as one of her gems. You know…

30 days have September, April, June and November,
All the rest have 31,
Excepting February alone.
Which only has but 28 days clear,
And 29 in each leap year

Now that was useful!

Then there’s…

Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue,
Sugar is sweet
And so are you.

Now even though I like that one because I pictured a kid saying it to me and meaning it…anybody notice this is a misleading poem quite early in? What a fatal flaw to let children think that Violets, the flowers, are actually blue instead of the purple that they are. Alright I mean I know they’re called blue violets and all but technically they’re a shade of purple.

And finally…

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,
Baker's man,
Bake me a cake
As fast as you can;
Prick it and pat it,
And mark it with T,
And put it in the oven
For Teddy and me

And with that said, you have more or less redeemed yourself in my eyes MG. I guess you were trying to show us the human side to life through a combination of good and bad rhymes and I appreciate that.