No, probably not the sounds you're thinking of, because, hi, it's just me and the cat. No, I'm sitting on the couch, working, the girls having been put to bed moments earlier and now talking in direct defiance of my directive to Just Go To Sleep Already. Then, from amongst the chatter, I pick out the following exchange.
No, no, Tank. It's Ba-Rock O-Bomb-A.
Tomorrow, Barack Obama is coming to my school to play with all the kids there. He's big and he's very nice. He will come in and have to take off his big old shoes! ::riotous laughter::
What, is he like a giant with big old feet? Are you scared of him?
No, he will play games with me and eat crackers.
I have no idea where they're getting this! I took them to vote and the Bear watched his acceptance speech with me, but we *never* talk about this. I never even told them his name - lest the kids at preschool get into a political fracas over it. But, apparently, they've heard it somewhere. At least they think he sounds like a nice man. May they never live to be disappointed in the ideals of their youth.