Where's your whip, child?

"Sing it, Naan-naan!" Little B repeats the mantra over and again, well aware that switching to screaming mode will bring out the monster in his sweet mother.
Upon leaving the playground, Simone once sang the "Bye-bye Playground" song, a classic, of course. Once, you would think, would be plenty enough. Especially for the poor innocent bystanders, unwillingly subjected to the caterwauling. However... Little B has other ideas. "Again, Naan-naan and now sing bye-bye to the cars," He orders. And if that doesn't suffice, he then demands that she sing bye-bye to the stop sign and the sky.
"Use your manners," Simone declares, secretly hoping the child will balk and thus the singing will reach a merciful end.
"Pweaz," smiles little B. "And tank-you," he adds thoughtfully.
Sigh. "Bye-bye stop sign, bye-bye sky, bye-bye everybody and everything, it's time for us to go."
Unfortunately, everybody and everything does not appear to have made it into little B's vocabulary. Either that or he prefers precision and the song must repeat until the stroller finally, FINALLY turns the corner away from the playground.
The breather lasts thirty second.
"Sing p'tit pwahsson," orders the mini-dictator.
At least it's a different song... Simone begins singing. "Petit poisson, petit poisson, nage, nage, nage..."
Little B peers at her suspiciously from his throne, his vision somewhat hampered by the stroller's umbrella. "Do the hand gestures," he frowns at his mother.
"I'm pushing a (expletive deleted) stroller up a (expletive deleted) hill. How the (expletive deleted again) do you suppose I'm going to push the stroller and do the (expletive... you get the idea) hand gestures? Huh?"
Little B makes a long face, his eyes wide and reproachful and frightened at the same time. The silence however feels weightier and accounts for more than one small child's reaction. Simone winces, looks up and realizes that the elderly couple who live next door to her are standing there, their dog on its leash, jaws scraping the ground, staring at her. She grins, "Uh, good afternoon!" She coughs and proceeds forward, pushing the stroller with her elbows and belly up the hill as she performs a show-stopping rendition, complete with abbreviated gestures, of "Petit Poisson".
By this time, the little king's mood seems to have abated and Simone begins to look forward to a quiet few minutes.
"Funny bear!" Decides the boss. "Sing Funny Bear!"
Ugh! "How about if I get it on youtube for you, huh? We're almost home..." Simone wheedles.
"Pweaz and tank-you?"
"Je m'appelle funny bear. Je m'appelle funny bear..."
(Just be thankful you can't hear Simone over the internet...)