Remember when you were a kid and your parents would tell you they didn’t like the lyrics to the songs you listened to on the radio? It’s come full-circle for me…but instead of my mom saying something about it, now it’s my daughter.
Last week I’m in the car with my girls and “I Like It” by Enrique Iglesias comes on the radio. So I turn it up and start singing along when my 8 year-old asks, “Mom, you like this song?”
Lauren: But Mom, it’s not a nice song.
Me: Not nice...why?
Lauren: Because it says “Your boyfriend is on vacation and he doesn’t have to know.”
Me: Oh. Sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.
And this is not the first time she's called me out on my music. The other day she got on my case about “Pump It” by the Black-Eyed Peas on my iPod because of a couple of swear words. Not the really bad swear words...just the semi-bad swear words.
So the good news is that my daughter is aware that not all music is appropriate. The bad news is that my daughter is telling me that MY music is inappropriate.
I should be recording these conversations so when she is 16 years-old I can just play them back when I’m scolding her for listening to some lame hip-hop song. With my luck, she’ll develop a love for country music and we’ll be stuck listening to songs about trucks and turkeys and farms and feuds.
Of course I am doing my best to help her appreciate the greatest music decade ever…the 80s. So far I haven’t had much luck. I get ridiculed when I crank up an 80s tune and sing along.
The reality of the situation is that I'm in a lose-lose situation when it comes to listening to music with my kids around. I'm either getting called to repentance or mocked.
I've thought about switching over to some really boring audio book that they have to listen to while we're in the car. But that might put me, the driver, to sleep...and that would be bad.
So this week I'm turning off the radio so we can have impromptu spelling bees and math equations while we're cruising around. Or, I'll talk to them in Spanish the entire time we're in the car and make them guess what I'm saying.
After a few days of that torture they'll be begging me to turn on the radio for some "mom music".