Once upon a time in Betsy's life, music was a good and almost any music would do. Those days are long gone. What has filled the musical void you may ask? It's disco. I blame her father. HE's the one who bought Pure Disco off the television. It's HIS fault we have a copy of I will survive. And it's lived in HIS car's CD changer just a little too long.
We use the Volvo for most family trips and as soon as we get in, "sic? sic?" Yes, Betsy, what you're asking for IS sick. *sigh* But I know what she wants. "Sic" is as much as Betsy says of "Music" and what she really means is "That awful shit that you thought was funny the first time and to which I'm now addicted. Some of that please." And I turn on The CD. I wonder if my daughter is going to become a drag queen groupie. She's certainly set up for it.
She listens with rapt attention to I will survive and actually sings the word "survive" along with the radio. She shakes her little fists. She is entranced. The song ends. "Sic? Sic?" *sigh* "Betsy, don't you want to listen to Shake Your Booty? It's next." "nooooooo. Sic!!!" If I'm extra stubborn, she will sometimes listen to Shake Your Booty. However, immediately thereafter "Sic? Sic?" "Betsy the next one is Love to Hear Percussion. Would that work? How about Macho Man?" "No! Siiic...." We either rewind, turn it off or have hysterics. Sometimes all three in no particular order.
If you get the sense that I thought this was cute, permitted it a few times and am now too much of a sissy to make it end, you are correct. I have the ability to do something about this. I am the grown up. But peace is nice. And watching her shake her fists to I Will Survive is pretty sweet. *sigh* "Sic?? Sic??"
I'm a sucker. And her father is a dead man. "Sic!"
Posted by karen at September 23, 2004 09:08 AM