The Rolling Stones Would Be Appalled

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"You'd better take an extra shirt," I told my husband as he spoke of his plans to wash his truck before heading off to a continuing education class he needed for his contractor's license.

"It's so hot outside, you might stink when you're done."

He laughed. "Smell like a monkey!" Then he sang, "Whoo whoo whoo whoo whoo whoo whoo" in an effort to imitate the monkey singing in the Ray Stevens song Gitarzan.

For a man who believes The Rolling Stones are the greatest band of all time, he has strange taste in music sometimes. I don't know how many times we've listened to that Ray Stevens song lately.

I kissed him goodbye out in the garage and grabbed the cordless vacuum. "I stepped on a Cheerio, I need to clean it up," I said. "Be careful in the heat."

Back into the house I went, all the way into my office, where I'd apparently dropped a lost Cheerio from my robe and then smashed it. As I ran the vacuum, I began singing the Jane part of Gitarzan.  "Baby! Whoooa! Baby! A scooby dooby dooby baby! Whoooa! Shut up Baby, I'm trying to sing."

I decided since I had the vacuum in the back, I would do a quick run-through of the hall, the bedroom, and the kitchen. I caterwauled all the way. "Baby! Whoooa! Baby!"

When I turned the vacuum off, I heard laughter coming from the garage. I went out to find my husband, hat in his hands, laughing so hard I thought he might fall off the chair.

"Is that . . . ," - guffaw - "what you do when I'm not home?" He finally managed to get out.

"Baby! Scooby dooby doo Baby!" I sang back.

Of course it is.

Here's the song on YouTube if you're not familiar with it: