Someone tell me . . .

Where do my children pick these things up? Right now--now, now . . .
very now!--they are all three marching around the house singing the
following lyric:

Shoo, fly, lobotomy!
Shoo, fly, lobotomy!
Shoo, fly, lobotomy!
Shoofly--lobotomy!

I don't recall using the word "lobotomy" at any point, and we didn't
watch _One Flew Over the Coo-coo's_ nest with the children at any time.

Egad.

ds