Yesterday we went shopping for the fall semester.

As I walk Lisa to school this morning, I am wearing a new shirt, and Lisa is wearing her new red shoes.

I start to sing:

Lisa's got her red shoes on,
Lisa's got her red shoes on,
She'll have them on all day long,
an' all day long she'll sing this song.

Lisa's got her red shoes on,
... ad infinitum.

Lisa loves the song. As she does all the songs I sing about her. She loves the rhymes and she loves the tune. I think she is probably sitting in school singing it now.

Unless they made her take her shoes of.

As I want back to my office, I wonder if there isn't a great song for my new orange shirt.

"It's not orange, Daddy, it is brown." Lisa had said to me.

But it is an autumnal orange– the orange of falling leaves. A russet, if you will. And for me that is orange.

Orange shirt.
Orange shirt.
I have an orange shirt.
My shirt is orange.
Orange shirt.
Orange shirt.

I guess I was repeating it to myself as I walked back to my office. Not a good song at all, just the simple babblings of a simple man.

"Good for you." A man says to me, patting my head. He has heard my gleeful refrain. "A nice orange shirt for the fall."