So Sam and I were hanging out and rocking some Mother Goose together. We breezed through "Hey, Diddle Diddle", though I sensed that Sam had some justifiable skepticism about the cat's true fiddling ability. We were both meh about "Old King Cole", because we didn't appreciate how the king just went around calling for pipes and shit, like he was the boss of everything.
But the real excitement took place a bit later in the book. When I read "Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman," Sam let out a genuinely terrified yell, reminiscent of Ralph Wiggum's reaction to the line, "Now is the winter of our discontent."
Maybe it was one of those "you had to be there" things.