Skip To My Lou

January 31, 2013

When new sculptures come into the warehouse, Casey often calls up and asks me to help name them. “Skip To My Lou,” quickly came to mind for this one and she said, “Oh, that’s exactly what had popped into my head, too!” We chatted for a while longer and after hanging up the phone, I noticed that the tune playing over and over in my head that morning was indeed, “Skip To My Lou.” How did the words go again?

Fly’s in the sugar bowl, what’ll I do?

Fly’s in the sugar bowl, what’ll I do?

Fly’s in the sugar bowl, what’ll I do?

Skip to my Lou, My Darling.

Did we ever skip rope to that song? I can’t say for sure.  I remember the “Minnehaha” rhyme and “Miss Mary Mack,” and another one that was something along the lines of a grocery list that finished up with an emphatic “And don’t forget the RED, HOT PEPPERS!” When you got to the “PEPPERS” part, the casual whirls of the rope instantly became furious revolutions; each one faster than the last until the girl jumping rope couldn’t keep up and missed, thereby ending her turn.

Nostalgically, I continued thinking of those silly rhymes and the countless elementary school recesses my girlfriends and I spent skipping rope.  Years later, the appeal still held. At our daughter’s sixth birthday party  all of the little revelers got jump ropes.  Somehow, the jump-rope event got juxtaposed with a round of dress-up and we had cowgirls and princesses and Red Riding Hoods all taking turns in the backyard.  Lots of giggles and maybe one banged up knee.  Missing the rope did have its consequences, but nothing a dusting off and a cool Sock Monkey Band-Aid couldn’t take care of.

Fast-forward to a not-so-far gone summer afternoon in Salinas, with a new jump rope for the youngest Riddell.

“Bluebells, cockle shells, evie, ivey over!”

And who says the girls get all of the fun?