So we were left with the radio. News is out. It's not long before there is a story on Jerry Sandusky or some other horrible thing that we don't want to discuss with small people. You need music. And so, our children were exposed to Meghan Trainor.
If you're not familiar with Meghan, she is the artist behind the hit song All About the Bass. From the moment the small people heard it, they loved it. *LOVED IT.* And I can dig it, it's a fun song with a good beat. If you don't have small people around, have a listen--with lyrics:
At first, I kind of liked it, too. I listened to some of the words and I was heartened. Trainor speaks of appreciating your body: 'every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top.' She also slams the all-too-common practice of photo-shopping images, which we've talked about before. Well, that's just great. I love that.
Then it goes downhill. She sings: "My Momma said don't worry about your size/boys they like a little more booty to hold at night."
What?! Since when is 'what boys like' the goal of any teachable moment? I'm tempted to shout to the backseat--"you boys better not be holding onto anyone's booty!" But I think better of it. The last thing they need is another word for 'bottom.'
There is further talk of 'skinny bitches' and I'm ready to change the station, but there is mutiny in the backseat. The only reason I consent to letting the song play out is that the small people never get the lyrics right. "I'm bringing booty back" comes out as "I'm eating fruity crack."
We dodged a bullet on that one.
Next on the list is Rude, a story of a man going to ask for the hand of his beloved. The father totally shuts him down and he defiantly claims he's going to 'marry her anyway.'
I tell Darling Son #1, "I don't like this song."
"Why not, Mommy?"
I begin ranting thus:
"Well, it's about a man going to ask the woman's daddy if he can have his blessing to marry her. And that's a very nice way to honor the daddy. But the daddy says, 'no,' and I don't think it's very wise to say he's going to marry her anyway. I mean, she's a grown woman and can make her own decision, but let me tell you, son, that's not a good way to start off on the right foot with your in-laws."
Did I mention he's six? Well, you can never start too young.
"You know, Daddy went to talk to Nana and Grandpa before he asked me to marry him and if Grandpa had said, 'no way,' Daddy would have rationally ascertained Grandpa's objections and addressed them until Nana and Grandpa were on board with the whole thing. That's because Daddy is respectful and isn't just going to railroad Grandpa. That's why they get along to this day and we can all eat Thanksgiving dinner together in peace and harmony."
I look back in the rear view mirror and DS1 is giving me a blank stare. "Umm. Mommy? Can I just listen to the song."
Oh. Ok. I'll comfort myself with some fruity crack.
A few days later, the Darling Husband comes home from work and says, "I heard that song the boys like on the radio. The All About the Bass song. It's horrible." I KNOW! And so after dinner, the DH fixed the CD player and we're back to listening to Thomas the Tank Engine songs in the car.
Pass the fruity crack.