Annmarie Throckmorton, M.A.
- Apr 23, 2018

Oh, What A Goose I Am.

When he was young and I was a little child, my father could be quite playful, in the one-upmanship way of men. He used to tease me to say “Oh”, and I would say “Oh”, then he would coax me to say “whatta”, and I would say “whatta”, and he would eagerly prompt me to say “goo”, and I would say “goo”, then he would happily say “siam” and I would say “siam”. And repeating after him, I delighted him by saying “Oh, what a goose I am.” I soon caught on so he only got to play that game a couple of times with me. To stay amused he would sing it to himself, ♪♫♬. He also taught me how to play snap, each of us stretching out a rubber band between us, daring to other to hang on until the quickest one let go the full force of the rubber band, and the loser got a stinging rubber band snap on their fingers. I kept letting the rubber band go right away for fear of the snap, and he mocked me a little. But as soon as I held on long enough to suffer a snap, in my eagerness to give him a snap, he stopped playing, saying he did not want to hurt me.