One evening when she was

One evening when she was two, lying in bed waiting for her story, Greta started singing the words, "My tushy feel good, my vagina feel good." The tune was quite pleasant, and she sang it for about ten minutes, the same words, the same tune, over and over. Then, with one last "My tushy feel good, my vagina feel good," rising to a kind of crescendo of pure well-being, she looked up at me and said, "Know that song?"