A Common Riddle Used Among Kids
There's a riddle used in the United States by kids to tease other kids who like each other:
"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes [a/the] baby in a baby carriage" is a popular traditional schoolyard nursery rhyme and skipping-rope song in the US and UK. It describes a traditional, linear progression of romantic relationships, from dating to marriage, to starting a family.
Key Details About the Saying:
Origin & Usage: It is a playground rhyme often used to tease children who have a crush on someone, often accompanied by the chant: "[Name] and [Name] sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
Full Rhyme: The most common version is: "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in a baby carriage".
Cultural Context: It represents a, at times, idealized or old-fashioned view of "natural" relationship milestones.
Variations: Sometimes the final line is altered in jest, such as "...then comes [Name] with a baby carriage".
The phrase is sometimes quoted to highlight or question traditional milestones in modern relationships.
My immature side likes to say the riddle when two people like each other.
A demonstration:
I like this song. It often features in my dreams. Dreams that involve what-if scenarios, with weird abstract, ineffable things I can't explain. It's strange. When having the dream, I understand what the imagery means, but when I try to describe it or remember it, I just can't pin down the feeling of what everything meant—or even remember it as I experienced it.
There is a back room to the house—an addition which was there when my mom bought it. It has a large window covered with blinds. We do not often spend time in that room. My mom went back there and opened the blind because she wanted to let light into the room.
Later, she looked and saw a deceased Finch outside of the window. The bird had collided into it. She feels bad. It made her sad.
Before she told me about the bird, I awoke from a nap. As I was rousing out of sleep, I heard a clear voice in my mind say: "There's something wrong with L."
In this case, the letter "L" stands for the name of my mom. Do you ever have times when you hear something spoken in your mind, and it doesn't sound like a thought, but rather, an actual voice? It was spooky. It was a forthright declaration, like an actual presence in the room with me.
Late last night when I took my dog into the alley behind the house, I saw a dead grasshopper at his feet while picking him up. I crouched down and studied the grasshopper. For some reason, it left an impression on me. I thought, "I wonder if my cat killed it?"
Then I wondered if I had stepped on it just then without noticing.
The Finch reminded me of the grasshopper in a way. I'm not prone to magical thinking, but both of these things seemed to be significant in a way that I can't quite explain—as if they were both allegorical—manifestations of something.
"I killed one of God's creatures!" she said. She's upset and crying. I told her that she couldn't have predicted it—and not to leave the blinds open in that room. I said, "It's okay," and gave her a hug.
I had seen the Finch a few weeks earlier in our backyard, and was happy to have seen it. Upon seeing it for the first time, I told my mom and sister, "I saw a Finch today!"
One of my favorite things to do is watch birds. I like to use a monocular to get close-ups. Perhaps when I move, I'll upload some footage to Note. I've never actually recorded any footage using a monocular, but it's something that I want to try.
