hole in my bucket

On the way down to Rutland Wednesday night to ronde-vous with Grammie Moore, I performed several stunning (if I do say so myself) renditions of that kiddie-classic "There's a Hole in My Bucket."

Tonight after dinner, Evie began to sing the song. She did really well:

There's a hole in my bucket, dear Liza...
So fix it, dear Henry...
But the stick is too long, dear Liza...
So cut it, dear Henry...
With what shall I cut it, dear Liza...
With the saw, dear Henry...
But the saw is grown-up, dear Liza...

me: "Evie, did you say "grown up"?"
Evie: "Oh, yeah, that's not quite right... But the saw is adult, dear Liza..."

For those unfamiliar - But the saw is too dull, dear Liza...