This past weekend Michael and I hit a crisis point in our nearly [counts quickly in head] nine-year marriage. In fact, I can’t remember when we’ve had a disagreement of this magnitude.

That’s completely a lie, by the way. I absolutely remember the last disagreement of this type. It happened when I learned that Michael sings the ABC song incorrectly.

As I’m sure I’ve mentioned at least seven times, I grew up in Maine and Michael grew up in South Florida.Β  There are lots of cultural differences that stem from that fact, not least of which is his desire to drink only Dr. Pepper and my desire to drink only black coffee. And water. You know, Puritan-approved drinks. But these little challenges were but blips on the radar screen of happiness. The ABC song was the first sign that something was truly amiss.

Everyone knows how the ABC song goes, right? It goes:

A B C D E F G
H I J K L MNOP
Q R S
T U V
W X Y and Z
Now I know my ABCs
Next time won’t you sing with me.

Right? Of course that’s right. Unless you are from South Florida. If you are from South Florida, you sing it this weird way:

A B C D E F G
H I J K L MNOP
Q R S
T U V
W X Y and Z
Now I’ve said my ABCs
Won’t you sing along with me.

That doesn’t even make sense, right? You didn’t “say” them, you “sang” them. And why do you want the other person to sing along? You just finished the song. It’s done. You need to invite them along on the next round, which you haven’t even started yet.

Bizarre. What’s even more bizarre is that when I asked Michael to remind me of how he sings it, he tried to sing it my way and insist that that’s how he’s always sung it. Dude, no. Don’t even try that. I know what I know.

Anyway, I thought that the ABC thing was an isolated incident…well, there’s the pattycake disagreement, too, but I’ve probably pushed your good graces too far already so I’ll get to the point. The point is this:

We were trying to decide on something minor and I launched into Eenie Meenie Miney Mo. You know, the classic argument-ender of schoolyards countrywide? I’ve been using it a lot settle disputes between the kids [parenting tip: it works! You should try it!] and so it was on the top of my head.Β  Michael immediately insisted that I was doing it all wrong. The Dr. Pepper-drinker actually dared insinuate that I do not know how Eenie Meenie Miney Mo works and that his South Floridian version was superior. And then–AND THEN–I noticed that when Annabel did Eenie Meenie Miney Mo she was employing yet another version that I can only assume she picked up at her preschool.

I don’t think you can maintain household harmony with three different versions of Eenie Meenie Miney Mo. We were going to have to settle on one.

I’m pretty sure this is the type of thing that the internet was invented for.

ToΒ  make it vaguely fair, I am not going to tell you whose version is whose. Though of course you will be able to tell which one is mine, because it will be the right one. But go ahead, read through them and choose:

Version A

Eenie meenie miney mo
Catch a tiger by his toe
If he hollers let him go
My mother said to pick the very best one
And you are not it.

Version B

Eenie meenie miney mo
Catch a tiger by his toe
If he hollers let him go
Momma said pick the best one

Version C

Eenie meenie miney mo
Catch a tiger by his toe
If he hollers let him go
Eenie meenie miney mo

Go internet. You know what to do.

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