How I Met Your Mother - Baby Talk lyrics

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How I Met Your Mother - Baby Talk lyrics

NARRATOR: Kids, in the fall of 2010, our friends Stuart and Claudia had a baby, and Marshall and Lily were the first to visit the happy new parents. MARSHALL: So, have you guys landed on a name yet? We're trying, but it's tougher than you think. You see, I like "Tiffany. " And I don't want my daughter to have a who*e's name. That's my mother's name. I know. Oh, I got it. How 'bout we name the baby after you-- "Frigid Shrew. " Oh, that's good. No, no, no, no. Let's call her "Vodka. " Then at least we know you'd hold her tight and never let her go! Don't knock the vodka. Wouldn't have a kid without it. (chuckling) Stuart, you are so That's not gonna be us, right? I mean, how hard can it be to name a baby? Right? I mean, just look at her. Yeah. She's clearly a Emily. Lisa. Lisa?! Emily?! (baby crying) Uh-oh. Uh-oh. Okay! I made a list of awesome baby names. Starting at the top: number one I'm gonna stop you right here, Marshall. You name a chubby white kid "LeBron," and he's the one getting stuffed in the basketball hoop. Then I'm also crossing off, um, "Shaquille" Mm-hmm. "Hakeem," and "Dikembe. " Hey, what about "Rob"? "Rob"? No. Why not? Hey, Rob. What are you gonna make? A turkey? Honka, honka! (gasps) Not "Rob. " Okay, um, how about "Ryan"? TED: Ooh. (all screaming) Not "Ryan. " "Johnny?" Hey, where's the goldfish? (gasps) Not "Johnny. " Or "Gil. " (whimpers) "Jeremy. " (music playing) Jeremy, no! Definitely not "Jeremy. " His stuff was so derivative. Well, I mean, geez, Lily. Well, whatever you do, do not name your baby "Becky," right? Why? What? What? Becky. My new co-anchor? Don't you guys ever watch the show? Oh, honey, I really try. Our DVR won't recognize it as a television program. Mm-hmm. I watched. Robin insisted I confirm how "awful" Becky is, so last night I checked it out. Peace talks in the region have been described as, "productive. " Becky? (in baby voice): Last night, in Staten Island, a taco cart owner was robbed at gunpoint. Aww That's so sad. Becky, we're-we're journalists. We can't get emotional about the news, we Oh, no! They stole all his money and then pelted him with his own taco meat! Who would do that? Well, if you read the story, we might find out. Oh, can I do this one, about the horse? I love horseys. Mm-hmm. Aww, the horse died. Guys! This news is all really sad. Okay, no holds barred-- what'd you think of Becky? Mmm (muttering) I thought she was charming. ROBIN: You, too? Can somebody please explain to me why the little girl act works on men? You want the long version or the short version? Short version. Short version. Who's your daddy? (all groan) You know, when you think about that, that phrase is really creepy. No, it's not. It's fun. Here, watch this. Hey, Lily Who's your daddy? (laughing) Okay, uh, let me get this straight. So, in, uh, in this scenario, because you make such sweet love to Lily, she is now your daughter. No, she is not my daughter. I'm just her daddy. Wow. That is disgusting. Exactly. And it's not like the opposite would work. There's no way a guy could pick up a girl, going around talking like a little boy. Challenge accepted. No. I, Barney Stinson, will pick up a girl whilst talking like a little boy. (all grumbling in protest) Okay. Here's my list of baby names. Oh. What about "Tara"? No. Not "Tara. " Tara was the hottest girl in my high school. We were all, like, obsessed with her. MARSHALL: We didn't just talk about her and fantasize about her We wrote songs about her. Tara, your booty is so smooth ♪ And I hope this isn't rude ♪ But I want to get up on it. ♪ Not "Tara. " What about "Esther"? (rock song plays) ANNOUNCER: Gentlemen, gentlemen. Coming up on the main stage, give it up for Esther! Oh. Oh. Hey, Barney. That prime rib was surprisingly good, but it's 10:30 in the morning. I don't need to see a lady get naked and dance. Oh, Esther gets naked. But she doesn't dance. Then what does she do? (blowing up balloon) (balloon pops) Sweet mother nature! That was my card! ANNOUNCER: Gentlemen, gentlemen. Give it up for Esther! (explosive pop, men cheering and whistling) Not "Esther. " I need a drink. Ted? Ted? Marshall, your list is entirely boy names. You do realize there's roughly a 50% chance of you having a daughter, right? Okay, honestly, I've never thought about having a girl. I don't want to think about having a girl. Tara, Esther-- can you imagine being one of those girls' dads? Marshall's daughter ♪ Your booty ♪ Your booty's so smooth. ♪ ANNOUNCER: Gentlemen, gentlemen. On the main stage, give it up for Marshall's daughter. He screwed up my childhood. That's why I do this. I have no idea how to raise a daughter! What if she makes bad choices? I mean, what if she winds up dating some Oh, God. Papa, I want you to meet my new boyfriend. Hey, bro. Thanks for making such a hottie. (weak laughter) Who's your daddy? You are, 'cause of all the s** we have. (Barney chuckles salaciously) (vomiting) I don't want a girl. I just want a little boy. It's not what it sounds like, folks. Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. JUDY: Marshall? Is that you? MARSHALL: Oh, okay, um You guys, you're a little too close to the camera. Can you back up a bit? How's this? Every time. Um, can you just sit in front of the computer like normal human beings? Perfect! Perfect. What's up, shooter? Um, to be honest, I'm getting a little freaked out about the idea of having a daughter. I know you two probably aren't the right people to talk to about this. You had all boys. Oh, well, that was just dumb luck. Hey, honey, would you get me a brewski from out of the shed? Sure. You want anything, Marshall? I'm in a computer, Mom. Oh. Yeah, all boys. Total co-winky-dink. It was no co-winky-dink. Since the Viking age, the Eriksen men have pa**ed down ancient secrets for conceiving boys. Number one, avoid lemons. They're baby girl fertilizer. Okay No offense, Dad, but I doubt there's any scientific data to support-- (mocking tone): "I doubt there's any scientific data to support. . "" I had all sons. Your grandfather had all sons. Your great-grandfather had all sons. Scoreboard! Who you gonna listen to? Me? Or "scientific data"? Members of the G-8 convened today in Vienna to discuss plans to fight climate change by re-- What? Ask me what I did yesterday. Hey, Becky, Becky, this is our news segment, okay? Nobody cares what you did yesterday. Lighten up, Robin. (in baby voice): What'd you do, sweetheart? Mike! Well, I'm new in town and don't know many people. But yesterday, I met the sweetest man, who took me on a tour of the city. (whispering): Guys, New York is kind of cool. Okay, back to the G-8 conference. Hello? Mike, can I get in the shot? Fantastic. Then this cutie patootie took me to this bar called MacLaren's, right underneath his apartment. Wait-- did you go out with Ted Mosby? Yes! Guys, I went out with Robin's roommate. I saw her bedroom. (whispering): She's a messy Bessie. In other news, later today, a Manhattan architect gets punched in the throat. Ow! Ted, of all the women in New York, you had to go out with an eight-year-old girl? Not what it sounds like, folks. Ted, you know that I hate her. How could you go out on a date with this girl? It wasn't a date. She came over to the apartment looking for you. I made Robin my famous chocolate chip cookies. But instead of chocolate chips, I used gummie bears. Aww (shrieks) A spider! Let me guess: she acted like a helpless little girl, and you stepped in as the big, strong man. I don't know if that's totally true. It's okay, little darlin'. Poor spider. Hey, hey, hey, hey. Spiders gotta die so trees can grow. Then I held her tight and told her it was all gonna be okay. By the way, I think I only wounded the spider. It crawled off into my bedroom. Wait. Is that why you slept on the couch last night? (scoffing): Yeah, I slept. I'm dying out here. Talking like a little boy is not working with the ladies. (in childlike voice): Wow, lady. You got some tig ol' bitties! (stammering) Gosh! Your body's a perfect this many. Hi. Do you want to wrestle with our special bathing suit places? Come on! Mm, I just need two seconds, baby. I know you think that's a compliment, but I'd rather you took your time. No, um I'll be right back. Ancient Norse wisdom tells us that, to sire a son, you must do three things right before you lay with your maiden. First, eat pickled herring. Eat it! This is ridiculous. ANNOUNCER: Gentlemen, gentlemen, on the main stage, throwing her life away, give it up for Marshall's daughter! (applause) (sobbing) Who's your granddaddy? That guy. (sobbing) (groans softly) (gagging) (little boy voice): Hey, want to have a three-way with me and my imaginary friend? His name's Otis. Hey, hey, want to come to my house and play telephone? I got the string; you got the cans. (giggles) I wet myself! Will you change me? Can't blame her on that one. Guys I have some terrible, terrible news. I, Barney Stinson, can't pick up a girl whilst talking like a little boy. Challenge forfeited. (high-pitched gasp) Yeah, we don't care about this No one challenged you, so it wasn't really a challenge. (sobs) (whispers): I'm sorry. MAN: Hey, Gerard, what's with that shirt? Nobody could pick up a chick wearing that thing. Challenge accept (sobs) Wow, I'm glad that's over. It was creepy watching Barney talk like a little kid. Oh, but you find it irresistible when Becky does? I don't get it. The Ted that I went out with was attracted to the kind of woman who could use a steak knife without supervision. For your information, Becky doesn't like steak, she likes pasghetti. Spaghetti. And more importantly, she makes me feel needed. Needed? (scoffs) She makes training wheels feel needed. Hey, it's nice to feel needed. And you know what? It's not a feeling guys get when they're with you. (groans weakly) Son Viking lore tells us that to ensure the continuation of your noble male lineage get a big old bowl of ice and dunk your man sack right in there! (laughing) You two and your football. (sighs) Okay. Mm-hmm. (chuckles) (ice cubes clack) (screaming) Now get in there, point Lily due north and make me a grandson! Eriksen! Eriksen! (crying) When we were dating, I I didn't make you feel needed? Come on! You always took charge of everything. Oop. I got this. Thanks. This okay? Am I hurting y I got this. Whoa! (grunts) (door rattling) Someone's trying to break in-- call the cops. I got this. Did that really bother you? Well, yeah. It's nice to be needed. Look, I'm sorry. (phone chimes) I didn't mean to upset you. It's Becky. Aw, she's trapped in a revolving door. I got this. Yeah. (goofy voice): Let's make a baby! Mm, mm, mm, mm! Whoa! Baby, you're packing snowballs, and your breath smells like a mermaid fart. Loving the dirty talk-- but you know what's even hotter? If we face this-a-way. Ooh, we're bad. Wait hey, baby, why are you facing me north? (gasps) You're trying to make us have a boy. I can ex How do you know about the north thing? Um, um And what are you doing with those lemons? Baby girl fertilizer! You're trying to make us have a girl! You are trying to make us have a girl. All my least favorite students have been boys. So I Googled "how to make a girl"-- some really weird stuff came up-- but finally, I found this conception Web site that said you should point south at the moment of conception eat a lemon (sighs) (groans) and heat up your lady parts to a balmy 105 degrees. (blow-dryer whooshing) Ooh ah Oh, that's not bad. MARSHALL: Eriksen! Lily, how could you do exactly the same thing I did? You're supposed to be the sane one. See that? Another boy expecting a woman to clean up his mistakes. That's why girls are way better than boys. Oh, really. Well, then how come whenever there's a creepy kid in a horror movie it's always a little girl? Or twin girls, who speak (eerily): in unison. Oh, well, what about Chucky? Okay, A) He was a doll; B) He was possessed by an adult serial k**er; and C) How could you bring up Chucky right before bed? (doorbell rings) Hey. Hey. Hey. Um, when we were dating, did did I make you feel needed? No, I didn't feel like you needed me at all. (sighs) That's what I thought. Uh, I'm sorry. Wait, where are you That's a compliment. You are the least needy woman I've ever met-- that's awesome. I mean, no guy's gonna say "Who's your daddy?" to Robin Scherbatsky. You're your own daddy. And mommy. And weird survivalist uncle who lives in a cabin with a shotgun blaming stuff on the government. And that is what makes you the most amazing, strong independent woman I've ever banged. Thanks, Barney. You know, um there's something that I wanted to ask you, and I don't really know how to say it so here goes. Who's the crazy chick in the apron? (baby voice): Someone naughty left his toys on the floor and needs to be spanked on his tushy-tush. (baby voice): Uh-oh, I'm in "twubble. " You did it? How? Last night, after admitting defeat, I just let myself go. Mmm, that looks so good. Can I have some? No! It's my ice cream; you can't have any. (baby voice): Someone needs to teach you how to share. Who's your mommy? Challenge completed! (chuckles) Now, uh, can you get this freak out of here? I'm really scared. I got this. Oh, so you finally agreed on a name? CLAUDIA (sighs): Uh, well, the other night she ran a really high fever. STUART: We rushed her to the emergency room at 3:00 in the morning, but they wouldn't admit her without a name. Right then and there, we realized how stupid we were being. We looked at each other and, well, we just knew. Our baby's name is Esther. Esther. (chokes) Esther? ANNOUNCER: Esther! That's beautiful. Yeah. We're idiots. Baby, names and gender, it's just, like it's some way of giving ourselves the illusion that we have any control whatsoever. I- I just want a healthy, happy, 12-pound-- Whoa. Ten-pound? Eight-pound? (sighs) I guess, but, dude, you're writing checks my vagina can't cash. (laughs) I love you. And I'm gonna love the crap out of whatever baby we have. Me, too. You know what? We should just think of a name that's good for either a girl or a boy. Like, um Jamie. Jamie. Marshall we just named our baby. Jamie. Mmm Mmm Not Jamie. (merry-go-round calliope playing) Shoe's untied. I got it. Yeah, this is over.