Fixing Song

We're off to Warragul to pick up Papa from the train station. A Midnight Oil CD is happily playing. "Mama, that's the fixing song". "The fixing song?", I echo, as we go around one bend, then another, then take the pot hole between the wheels. I listen to the distinct "bang bang bang" rhythm of the song. It does sound like a hammer with background clutter. "Clever little girl", I think to myself, as we bounce over a rise and wind down into a valley.

We pull up at the station a whisker before the train arrives, and we bound out of the car like two little kids, screaming and running. There's the train, there's Papa waving from the window in the second carriage. The doors open and a screaming running bundle of joy runs into Papa's outstretched arms. It's like this every week. So much joy.

We belt up, crack open our cans, and cruise back towards the ranch. "Papa, Mama is playing the fixing song", says the little voice from the back. "Yeah?", Papa sounds interested, "does it sound a bit like 'Bob the Builder'?". "Yes, on the scaffolding". Bob the Builder on scaffolding? What's going on here?

Well, it turns out that when the workmen (and all workmen are "Bob the Builder" in Sabina's eyes) on the scaffolding at Oma and Opa's play loud songs, which Oma dislikes, she says that they are "fixing" something. Hence the "fixing song". The little girl is spot on. Wish the adults could keep up.