I know an old lady who swallowed a fly.

While I was preparing the lunches for the kids this morning, Mia began telling an elaborate story about a fly in the classroom.

"I know an old lady who swallowed a fly," I sang absent-mindedly.
"I don't know why she swallowed a fly. Perhaps,"

Oh crud. I couldn't finish that line. Not in Mia's presence. She'd worry about it all day. She'd bug us all night, unable to sleep because of the possibility of what might happen to a person who swallowed a fly.
Maybe I could finish it a different way. It could rhyme. She'd never know the difference.

"I don't know why she swallowed a fly," I repeated, stalling.
I wracked my brain. No matches.
"Perhaps..." I trailed off. Think, think, think!
"Perhaps she didn't know," Mia sang.

Yes, perhaps she didn't know she swallowed a fly. Brilliant.

Phew.
Crisis averted.