When I became a parent I started preparing myself for the new and weird things that were sure to happen to me as a result. I knew all kinds of new smells would become part of my life. I understood that sleep would be fleeting, sometimes nonexistent, and that I’d no longer have a say in the number of hours I spent asleep every day. I tried to be mentally prepared for crying, diaper bombs, back pain, etc. etc. As Dominic grows, many of those things get easier, and of course, different challenges arise. Something I was not adequately prepared for, however, is the really bad music.
We’ve introduced a little Sesame Street into Dom’s life. (The stuff from my childhood. Watching the current show would be no fun for me. Plus I don’t like Katy Perry.) He likes it. One DVD, in particular. That’s fine with me; I did go to the trouble of picking out a bunch of fun-looking shows at the library but he can watch the same one over and over. The bad part: the really bad music. Maybe it isn’t really bad, it’s just sticks super easily in one’s head. I could be jamming to a great station on Pandora all day, but after one run-through of People in Your Neighborhood, I’m singing that the rest of the day. All evening. Every time I wake up to help Dom back to sleep at night.
But another unseen consequence has arisen. I think this all of this bad music has infiltrated my brain and made me more susceptible to bad music. For example: as I’m going to sleep Paul mentions Flo the insurance lady from Progressive for some reason. (I have yet to forgive him for that.) One of her stupid songs pops into my head and I dunno, five, maybe ten minutes later I realize it’s still there. What the heck?? And you can’t forcibly replace a stuck song with another one. You know this. Also, because I’m a glutton for punishment, I got an Elmo CD from the library to play for Dominic when we’re in the car. (I’ll take that Best Mom Ever award now, please.) There’s no escape.
The point here is that I’m seeing a future filled with this phenomenon, a future with no foreseeable end. Whether it’s this song (from a show called Word World that I’m determined Dom will like – English nerd parents unite) or the inevitable Veggie Tales songs, already in my subconscious just waiting to resurface with a vengeance, I’m likely doomed.
Oh well. As one of my good friends always says, life should be a musical. And the Sesame cast agrees. It’s in the air: