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Friday, October 14, 2011

Opening Pandora's Box

Have you tried Pandora?

We've been big fans here for a little over a year. We have a Veggietales Station, a Wheels on the Bus Station, Jim Croce and Michael Buble for Mom, and George Winston and others (which will remain nameless) for Dad. We can run it through our TV using this wonderful device, and so we often play it during chore time.

A few months ago I started singing "Don't Worry, Be Happy" to one of the girls after a long day of Math because, yes, I am just that cheesy. My radio dial is on one of two stations ESPN or (according to Sophia) "Catholic ESPN" known to most as EWTN. Since we don't listen to most music stations, my girls are pretty sheltered and had never heard such a song. Being the dork I am, I loaded up a new Pandora station... the Don't Worry Be Happy station which introduced my girls to such classics as Deo, Daylight come and me wan go home... (that can't be the title of the song just think Bettlejuice-- and the dorkiness snowballs), and other wonderful, mostly stadium rock type songs.


While listening one afternoon, I was caught up in cleaning and chores running all over the house. It soon became clear I was not paying enough attention to the music blaring through the living room when I walk downstairs to hear "Son of a Preacher Man" playing on our surround sound. While it has horrible lyrics, it apparently has quite a catchy tune. I quietly turned it off, not wanting to make a scene or call the girls attention to it. It soon became apparent I had not succeeded. Little (5 year old) Sophia hummed that tune for a few days.

Then yesterday she was belting out strains of "Son of a PIZZA man" all afternoon. That is the only line she remembers, but all afternoon she sang of this famed pizza man. I am not sure if it was more entertaining or horrifying. Yes, this clinches my Mother of the Year Award.


After awhile Catie picks up on the little ditty and starts to question it. I hear the following conversation going on across the house:

Catie: I don't think those are the words to that song.
Sophia: Yes they are! (I can just see the look on her face even though she is out of sight. She is giving her sister the most matter of fact look, probably with one hand on her hip.)
Catie: (Thinking about it for a moment more) No, I don't think anyone would write a song about a pizza man. Go ask Mom.

I know it's coming. I do all I can to prepare myself. A few minutes later this sweet, little girl with a pink flowered headband freckles on her face greets me in the kitchen. "Mom," she says, "Is this song really about a PIZZA man?"
My response?

"Yes, sweetie. Of course it is." Because, really, I'm just not going there with a five-year old.

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