(I don't know what song the tune was based on; sorry.)
Oh perfect child,
Oh perfect child,
Oh perfect, perfect, perfect child;
Oh perfect child,
Oh perfect child,
Oh perfect, perfect, perfect child;
Perf, perf, perf, perf,
Perfect, perfect, perfect child!
Ahem. Though he did believe in discipline, Dad also thought it a good idea to impress upon that he thought we were all right.
Which perhaps goes some way towards explaining why, even in my darkest moments, I have always thought rather highly of myself.
Post-script: While I'm on the subject, my wonderful kindergarten teacher, whom I remember only as Miss Matthews, described me thusly to my parents at one of those parent/teacher meetings: "Well, Geoffrey is ... perfect!"
Or so family lore has it.