Babysitting The Pterodactyl. Now Updated With NSFW (or anywhere else) Bonus Link!

The squawks are frequent and ear-splitting, prehistoric in their intensity. We're babysitting the Pterodactyl again.

Lovely Mirabel in a previous life.

That would be our youngest granddaughter, Mirabel. She's the world's happiest child, and sometimes that happiness becomes so great that it must be emitted in one or several loud and heartfelt yawps. Emily was the first to notice the resemblance to the pterosaur's hooting, and the name stuck.

I've even written a little ditty about it, to the tune of "You Talk Too Much."

You squawk too much, you worry me to death.
You squawk like a pterodactyl that is strung out on meth.
You squawk, squawk, squawk, you squawk too much.

You squawk about stuff that you don't know.
You squawk like a wooly mammoth with a trunk full of blow.
You squawk, squawk, squawk, you squawk too much.

You squawk too much, you quack and you quack.
You squawk like a struthiomimus that's addicted to crack.
You squawk, squawk, squawk, you squawk too much.

The squawkin' struthiomimus

BONUS LINK! WARNING! Not safe for work! Not safe for children's ears! Not safe!]

P.