“Ninety-nine bottles of POP on the wall, ninety nine bottles of POP! Take one down, pass it around…”
Meena loves to sing, but this is the first time that I’ve heard those particular lyrics coming from the back seat. I don’t know who taught her, and it’s probably just as well (for them) if I never find out. The good news is that apparently, after ninety-nine comes forty-five.
The bad news is that after forty-five, comes sixty.