I grew up in a hick small town nestled along the banks of the mighty Mississippi. And while there were many advantages to small town living, we did not have the advantage of a wide variety of music.
When you were in the car with dad, you listened to classic rock. This is okay. Until that moment when you are 25 and realize exactly what AC/DC meant by “She told me to come but I was already there.” Awkward.
When you were in the car with mom, you listened to the golden oldies. This is okay. Until that moment when ‘Leader of the Pack’ comes on. Vroom Vroom. Seriously lame, Tam Tam.
Your friends listened to country. WHICH IS NEVER OKAY. Seriously, how many ways can you sing about your wife leaving you, your dog dying, your truck, and putting a boot in someone’s ass? Probably as many times as Dubya can ask if prunes make you poop.
All you got to listen to was a really bad cheesy pop station. It did not leave you open to a vast array of musical choices. So you listened to all the pop songs of today. (Be that Nsync. Or Black Eyed Peas. Or whatever everyone and their dog is listening to at that moment.)
Hollywood Boyfriend Jeremy Renner told me once that it really bothered him that I didn’t listen to music much. So I started expanding my horizons. Branching out, if you will. And on my quest for new music, I have been exposing my spawn to new music.
Dubya loves everything. Johnny Cash. The Black Keys. Mumford and Sons. Macklemore. Bon Jovi. And Dubya loves singing at the top of his lungs with me.
Moo Cow is a bit more picky. She settles on one song that she loves and wants to hear it over and over. Mumford and Son’s Where Are You Now was her favorite. She loves the Disney Princess channel on Pandora. She hates it when I sing. She hates it when people look at her when she sings. Big ole ball of hate, that one.
The other day the three of us were heading to the grocery store when this song came on the radio. I told Dubya that I thought he might like it and turned it up a bit. By the time it was over and I was wrangling the kids out of the car, the song was over and Dubya was thrilled. “Hey, MOM! DID YOU HEAR THAT PART WHEN THEY SAID HE SAID HOWDY AND I SAID HI? THIS SONG IS AWESOME.”
And then I noticed it….pouty lip on Moo Cow. Someone appeared to be feeling left out. So I asked, “Moo Cow, did you like this song?”
“NO. It’s inpropit*.”
Dubya and I exchanged looks. I set it up: “Moo, we should have named you Debbie.”
And Dubya finished it off: “Yeah, DEBBIE DOWNER.”
And you know, it does have potential as a nickname. She is a funsucker. A dementor, if you will. A high maintenance little sassafras.
Oh and now, she’s switched up her favorite song. What’s that you ask? What song could Little Miss Ball of Sunshine possibly like? Oh just a little song by Kid Cudi called ‘The Ruler and The Killer’ from The Hunger Games soundtrack. Her favorite part? When shes gets to sing along to the chorus. ”You don’t talk, you don’t say nofin’, k?”
At least she is consistent in her negative nancy ways.
*Please note: I know how to spell inappropriate. Moo Cow, however, does not know how to say it.
