No Singing, Please

In the bath tonight, after I took Ben to an after-hours doctor visit (he's fine; just has a virus):

Lynn: [singing] Goofball, Armor Goofball, What kind of kid likes Armor Goofball?

Ben: Want to stay here instead.

Lynn: Instead of what?

Ben: I don't want to hear singing.

Lynn: Okay.

Ben: Okay.

Daddy: [fallen on floor, laughing hard, can't readily rejoin]