The Little Man and I were driving down the road the other day and, though the radio was on, I started to try to sing John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt to him. As per the norm, 4-5 words into the song he says "Mom, stop it! Stop singing!". Since he was in the back seat, at least I was saved the requisite attempt to hit me in the mouth.
I stopped trying to entertain my hostile audience, and noticed that The Roof is on Fire by the Bloodhound Gang was playing on the radio. So we drove along, enjoying the song, and I start hearing "The roof, the roof, the roof on fire" coming from the back seat. The best part was that the rearview showed him head banging along with the beat. We sang along with the chorus the rest of the song, and may I just say Thank You FCC for the bleeping of "motherfucker," 'cause THAT would have gone over well at daycare.
He still sings it sometimes, all the while head banging to the beat in his head, but the roof is now under water instead of on fire. I have no idea why, but whatever works for him, it's damn funny either way.
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I alwayas thought my mom was odd because she could find a song for every event during the day. I found her selection of Rogers and Hammerstein strangly annoying. But here I am twenty five years later doing the same thing to my kids--songs may have changed a bit but once they're strapped in the car they're my captive audience. Hope you're feeling better after a nasty week.
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