Mabel came with us on Dash’s school run this morning, because I was taking her to the doctor straight afterwards (to ascertain that her ongoing sniffles-and-cough-and-ear thing is probably two colds back to back rather than anything worse, like maybe a sinus infection; doctor said if she’s not over it in another week she’ll call in a prescription for us; AANYWAY). Usually, Dash’s traffic-clogged trip to school has the soothing soundtrack of NPR talk radio, but Mabel hates NPR. She wanted the crappy music stations; more specifically, not any songs but preferably the ads. She likes the ads. Why would anyone like the ads? (I like the crappy music stations too, I hasten to clarify, but I like the songs, not the ads.)
So I put on the classical music station and told the kids it was a compromise: a compromise is when nobody gets what they want. In retaliation, Dash started to sing his favourite dirge from music class, which is a two line hum where half the class sings a low monotonous wail and the other half sings a high chirpy incredibly irritating tiddly bit. Maybe it sounds good when they put it all together in music class, but one part at a time sung by Mr I-never-get -bored-of-the-same-line-over-and-over does not. Mabel started to build an imaginary brick wall to shut herself off from him. I glanced back to see her happily spreading invisible mortar and placing invisible bricks. Once her wall was done, she sang her own song: a brief and whiny rendition of Dash’s nemesis in tune form, ‘Shake It Off’. He protested. She said he couldn’t hear her because of her brick wall. I listened really hard to Mozart.
But because it was morning, and we’re all well-rested and not yet grumpy, things didn’t turn ugly, as they easily could have later in the day. Instead of screams and kicks and threats of turning someone out on the Beltway (where quite honestly they would probably get there quicker walking, but also probably flatter), they joined forces. Dash started humming the theme tune to Star Wars, and Mabel joined in, but singing the words ‘Let it Go’ to the melody. (They both hate ‘Let It Go’, which they view as horribly babyish and something they only liked as their immature three-years-ago selves. This about-face happened just after I bought Frozen on DVD.) They happily worked themselves through the themes to Indiana Jones and Harry Potter this way, and finally moved on to a rousing chorus of ‘Shut Up and Dance’.
I was not allowed to join in.
(And now I have remembered this post, from a million years ago, which was mostly inspired by me and B in the car singing along to whatever it was we were listening to, and thinking we needed some underlings to teach to sing along too, before they decided that we were uncool and so were our tastes in music. I think we’ve managed that, though it maybe didn’t turn out exactly as I envisaged. When does it ever, though? We did pretty well.)